Virus
by JayEz
Summary: In the DoM, Lupin is in the arch room a minute earlier and he recognises the threat Bellatrix poses. When Sirius doesn't die, everything changes... In which Harry discovers his sexuality, Ron throws a fit, Draco is crushing on the Boy Who Lived but tries to ignore it and when Harry confronts Draco about what he is up to in the Room of Requirement, it all gets way out of control.
1. Attachment

**Author's Notes:**

Originally posted at AO3 and complete with a second part under way. I'll be posting all of part I here as well and see how it's received.

This started when VernieKlein was betaing my story "Gorgeous" (over at AO3) and I promised drama, to which she replied by wishing I'd only once write a "mushy" story where no major catastrophes would happen to Harry and Draco once they are an item. I dared her to write a prompt - which she did :) It was nicely extensive, and I ran with it and hopefully managed to meet her expectations!

I changed the timeline a bit. A few things happen a little earlier, like Slughorn, Harry's "He's a Death Eater" epiphany and it goes AU after the Christmas holidays. Major plot events still stay, though...

Title from „Virus" by Nupagadi, a German band. Chapter titles draw on the phases of viral infection. Hehe.

XXX

**VIRUS - Chapter 1: ****Attachment**

_Cause you're being just a virus _  
_You'll never ever be good for me _  
_Cause you're being just a virus _  
_And that's something I don't need_

_- "Virus", Nupagadi_

XXX

The world stops for a moment.

The world stops and Remus watches in slow-motion as Sirius fights Bellatrix Lestrange, laughing as if it were all a game.

Then there is movement in front of him: Dumbledore speeds down the steps, the world at his heels as it starts turning once more.

Sirius is still laughing, yet Bellatrix' face is a study in grim determination and it sends a chill down Remus' spine. He knows murderous intent when he sees it, especially in the eyes of a Death Eater and it has taken Sirius and him so long, cost them so much energy to rebuild the kind of trust they are sharing and he will not let some crazy woman take that away.

Metres away from him, Sirius ducks a red jet of light, grin widening.

"Come on," he taunts, blind to how she raises her wand again and Remus' heart stops for a second. "You can do better than-"

-but Remus is on him, tackles Sirius to the ground just in time as the green jet of the killing curse flies over their heads.

"DON'T YOU DARE!" Remus hears Harry roar, but it is far away, almost another world. He dimly sees Dumbledore taking off after Harry, yet all his senses are focused on Sirius, whose eyes are wide in shock as he realises what almost happened and turns his head, dumbstruck, to face Remus.

"Your mouth has always got you in trouble." He tries for humour but is off by light-years.

"You were always the responsible one," Sirius breathes out as his body slumps on the ground, fighting off the shock because they are still in the Department of Mysteries and there might still be Death Eaters about.

Wordlessly, Remus jumps back on his feet and offers a hand to Sirius which he gratefully accepts. His eyes are drawn to the veil he probably would have fallen through if the killing curse had hit him.

"Let's go," Remus urges him since he can see Lucius Malfoy stir where he is lying on the ground.

Sirius tears his eyes away from the arch and follows, not laughing but with new energy in his step that Remus has missed with all his heart.

XXX

Remus has to fight off tears when he watches Sirius hug Harry tight on the floor of the Atrium once it is all over.

Dumbledore sends Sirius off with a Portkey before the Atrium is flooded with people who would identify him and after making sure Harry gets back to Hogwarts without Fudge bombarding him with questions, Remus also returns to Grimmauld Place where he finds Sirius pacing in the living room.

The man looks up when Remus enters, the lines on his face prominent in the dim light of the room.

"Harry is safely back at Hogwarts," he explains and a little bit of the tension seeps out from Sirius' shoulders.

Silence stretches between them and it takes several minutes before Sirius gives him a rueful smile.

"Go on, tell me I shouldn't have gone. Tell me you told me so."

Remus shakes his head. "A near-death experience is enough punishment in my book."

Sirius laughs that bark of a laugh of his that always warms Remus' heart and finally, Sirius closes the distance between them and pulls him into a deep kiss.

They pull apart when they are both out of breath and Sirius rests his head on Remus' shoulder.

"I want us all to live together, Remus. You, me and Harry."

"Dumbledore will want to keep Harry with is family-"

"Leave dealing with that old man to me."

Remus chuckles and shivers at the same time. Sirius always wanted to tell Harry about the prophecy, play with open cards in the game that might as well cost his godson his life, but Dumbledore always overruled him.

Now, however, Sirius has his mind set on having Harry stay with him and Remus knows first-hand how insistent Sirius can be when he really wants something.

He doesn't envy Dumbledore in the slightest.

XXX

Draco is quite sure that his little infatuation with Potter started on a Saturday.

The Saturday that he first fought Potter on the Quidditch pitch, to be precise. Not that 12-year-old him had recognised it as such, but the fact stands that from the moment Draco's body first touched Potter's, the sensation was imprinted in his mind and would never disappear.

The first time he had to consciously acknowledge his misplaced crush was shortly after he turned thirteen and woke sweaty and out of breath from a wet dream in which Potter had sucked him off in the broom shed near the Quidditch pitch.

Draco has never told anyone. He tried to ignore it, but his problem persisted. He tried dating Pansy and never got past snogging since his body wouldn't respond the way it did to images of the bloody Boy Who Lived. He took it out on the Chosen One every chance he got, taunting him, teasing his friends, making sure that Potter's life was worse for knowing him.

Draco strongly suspects that everything has to do with a hand that Potter never shook.

Potter is the one who got away and Draco's mind latched onto him - no, not him. The idea of him.

Draco knows he is a spoilt only-child and he likes his life, he likes knowing that his future is cared for, that he never needs to wear second-hand clothes, that he will always have nice things. Of course the one person who refuses to give him what he wants ends up being the object of his desire. There is logic behind his lust, at least.

Draco fathoms this way too much introspection for a 13-year-old, but he has always been mature for his age and rather clever.

Which is another problem.

He can perfectly imagine how his father would react if Draco told him he prefers blokes. Bloody hell, he is sure his marriage has already been arranged once his mother found out she is pregnant with a boy.

Draco may have a rough time reigning in his hormones, but he is by no means naive.

Well, and as if it isn't enough that Draco has to be infatuated with a member of the same sex, why does it have to be the Boy Who Lived, the focus of his father's - and since his fourth year, the Dark Lord's - sinister plans?

Having a crush on Zabini would have made his life that much easier. But no.

Draco never does anything only halfway. He always has to take it all.

There is one hope, though.

Tasked with killing Dumbledore, he won't have time to obsess over Harry bloody Potter since he will be too busy finding a way to do the impossible.

Draco rubs his left arm. The Mark still hurts, even a week after the initiation. He wishes his father could have been there and seen it with his own eyes.

Yet somehow, the pride in Lucius' eyes when Draco told him about it during his visit in Azkaban seemed faked.

Draco refuses to think about it. He also refuses to think about the Dark Lord's voice in his ear, coldly issuing threats against his parents should Draco fail in his mission.

All he thinks about, is a plan.

XXX

Harry's life has never been better.

True, the part of _neither can live while the other survives _still haunts him in his dreams and true, the Second War has eventually begun. But Harry is used to tragedy, to drama, to fighting Voldemort, so that is nothing too new.

What is new however, is living with Sirius and Remus at Grimmauld Place. Harry has known about their relationship since he caught them kissing underneath a mistletoe last Christmas, but he also understood that Remus was gone most of the time on missions for the Order while Sirius wasn't allowed to leave the house, which bread the desperation that culminated in him coming to the Ministry at the end of June.

His godfather is a changed man now. He looks ten years younger, he laughs a lot more than Harry remembers, his eyes sparkle whenever Remus is in the room and he makes every effort to be the godfather Harry never had.

"Are these all the clothes you have?" Sirius asks when he helps Harry unpack after Dumbledore (begrudgingly, though) picked him up from Private Drive and escorted him to Grimmauld Place with a detour to Horace Slughorn.

"Yes. They used to belong to Dudley, so they are a tad bigger."

Sirius holds up an especially baggy t-shirt. "A tad bigger? These are tents! Burn these, Harry, we're going shopping."

Sirius, using transformation spells to alter his appearance, Remus and Harry spend the next days in Muggle London, buying clothes, eating ice cream and enjoying the summer.

"Anything else you need?" Sirius pays for their cones and the three of them begin wandering about the city.

"You do realise you're spoiling him, don't you?" Remus objects, though the smile on his face shows that he isn't too serious about it.

"I'm going to pack 14 years of absence into this summer, Moony, and you won't be able to stop me!" Sirius raises an expectant eyebrow and Harry creases his forehead.

"Anything?"

"Anything you want."

Harry bites his bottom lip, thinking. There is one thing that has been bugging him all his life, and perhaps he can finally do something about it.

"Can I have contacts? I really hate my glasses."

Sirius grins. "Sure, no problem."

They continue their stroll through London, Remus chuckling as he slides an arm around his partner.

The first two weeks of the summer holidays pass quickly that way.

Remus might still be gone for a few days here and there to do business for the Order, but Sirius is always there. He and Harry talk for hours until Harry's side hurts from laughing so hard about stories from his godfather's and his parents' school days that he on one memorable occasion literally falls off his chair.

Other times, Sirius takes him out flying which is not only a great deal of fun but it also prepares Harry for the next Quidditch season at Hogwarts.

Some evenings, though, when Remus is there and Harry wants them to have the house to themselves, he goes out, strolling Muggle London.

On a whim he decides to get a cup of tea and finds a coffee shop that is still open. Only three more customers are in the shop already plus one young, blond barista.

The bloke looks up and blinks at Harry for a second longer than normal before his mouth curls into a coy smile.

"Good evening. What can I do for you tonight?"

Harry returns the smile a tad uneasily, unsure where the attitude is coming from. "One cup of Earl Grey, please. Medium, with milk."

"Alright, and your name?"

"Harry?" It sounds more like a question - he is the only customer, don't they only need the names to keep the orders apart when more people order?

"You sure?"

Harry laughs, surprised. "Yes. I'm sure." A glance at the boy's name tag identifies the barista as Nathan.

Harry watches him while he prepares Harry's order. Nathan has blond hair that falls into his eyes when he leans over the worktop to fill Harry's cup, but he can still see the silver spike that pierces Nathan's eyebrow. Harry may be a few inches taller but Nathan is at least a few years his senior.

"One Early Grey with milk for Harry," Nathan says with a wink.

Somehow, this makes Harry laugh. "Thank you," he answers, sliding over a few pounds. "Keep the change."

"Cute and generous," Nathan jokes, "You need to come by more often."

Harry splutters, quite sure he is also blushing furiously at the compliment. Is Nathan flirting with him? Or he is just being nice to his customer?

Harry takes his cup quickly, then selects a magazine from the stand near the restrooms and takes a seat near the counter at a safe distance from the couple by the window and the businessman at the wall.

Soon, Harry is the only one left and he looks around to check whether he should leave because the shop might be closing soon.

"We're open until eleven," Nathan's voice informs him from somewhere to his right.

After glancing at his watch - which tells him it is half ten - Harry looks over to where the barista is cleaning up the mugs and napkins the couple left in their wake.

"I don't want to be in your way when you clean up."

Nathan smirks but it's a warm gesture, nothing like the sneers Harry is used to from Malfoy.

"Don't worry, for you I'd keep the shop open until after closing."

"My tip wasn't that big, was it?"

Nathan shrugs. "Usually teenagers never tip; I need to cultivate that habit."

The blond disappears behind the counter, probably to put the mugs in the dish washer, then comes out again, wet cloth in hand to wipe down the tables, Harry assumes.

Nathan starts at the table right next to him. "What brings you out here at this time of night anyway?"

"Eh, I felt like taking a walk."

"And your parents are okay with that?"

"I'm staying with my godfather, he's not too strict."

Nathan's laugh sound as if he knows what Harry is referring to. "How old are you, if I may ask?"

For a split second, Harry wants to be honest but something tells him that he shouldn't. "Seventeen," he lies smoothly. "You?"

"Nineteen." His smile broadens. "I'm Nathan, by the way."

"Yeah, I," Harry motions awkwardly to Nathan's chest, "I saw your name tag."

"And he can read! Brilliant." The bloke winks again and Harry finds the possibility that Nathan might actually be flirting more and more likely.

But how does Harry feel about it? Somehow, he can't really form an opinion that exceeds simple curiosity.

Nathan leaves him to his magazine while he continues cleaning and putting chairs up onto tables and cleans up behind the counter.

The bloke then walks back to where Harry is sitting, armed with a cloth and Harry lifts the magazine to give him room. Nathan bows over the table but doesn't look at what he is doing. Instead, he looks up to Harry through blond lashes.

His eyes are a deep, stormy blue and suddenly, Harry's throat is drier than parchment.

"Thanks," Nathan says when he straightens, table clean.

Desperate for something to do, Harry closes the magazine and walks over to the stand to replace it.

"You said you walked here?"

Nathan's question makes him turn around to where the boy is putting on a black leather jacket. To his surprise, there are three or four rows of rivets on each of the shoulders and Harry would guess that Nathan has one or two or ten patches on the back.

"Yes, I live nearby."

"Let me walk you home, then. Strength in numbers and all that."

Harry nods after brief hesitation and Nathan's smile broadens. Harry watches as Nathan puts up the last chairs and follows him out of the coffee shop door which Nathan locks securely.

"Let me just get my bike!"

A few moments later, Nathan re-appears around the corner, pushing an old bike which once was painted black but it splinters in places after what probably is extensive use.

They keep up pleasant small talk, nothing too serious and Harry is grateful for two weeks with extensive contact to the Muggle world so he at least doesn't appear like a fool who lives behind the moon.

Harry stops a street away from Grimmauld Place - there is no way he can explain why he is living in a house that doesn't exist...

"This is me, just around the corner," he says and Nathan leans his bike against the lamp post, turning back while running a hand through his hair.

"Can I see you again?" Nathan asks and steps closer, almost in Harry's personal space.

"Sure," Harry breathes out, not entirely clear on what is going to happen now, though he guesses his theory was right. Nathan is definitely flirting

"Can I have your number?" Nathan dips his head to the side and looks up through his lashes again. Harry's breath hitches.

"You could, but I don't have a mobile," Harry admits and feels his cheeks colour faintly.

"Seriously?"

Harry scrambles for an explanation that doesn't make him appear like a technophobe or something otherwise uncool. He can't really explain his wish to appear cool in Nathan's eyes and he doesn't stop to reflect on it just now.

"I've been living with my aunt and uncle, they didn't give me much."

"And now?"

"With my godfather... But I could meet you at the coffee shop again?"

"I'd like that. I work three to eleven." Something shifts in Nathan's eyes and Harry has a second to prepare himself before he closes the distance between them, stretches and presses his lips to Harry's.

It feels different than it did with Cho. Where she was soft and vulnerable, Nathan is a hard presence against his lips. When Nathan's tongue licks Harry's bottom lip, he gasps. Nathan seizes the opportunity and tentatively pushes his tongue forward and finally, Harry's brain come to life again, allowing him to kiss back.

The experience is incredibly hot and doesn't last nearly long enough.

Nathan pulls back, winks and steps back. "I can't wait for tomorrow," he says, then grabs his bike and swings a leg over the saddle.

Harry watches him riding into the darkness.

When he reaches the kitchen at Number 12, Sirius is standing at the sink, sipping tea from his favourite mug.

He raises an eyebrow. "You're home late." His smirk fades slightly when Harry doesn't answer immediately. "What happened? Did you see Death Eaters? Was it your scar-"

"No! Nothing like that! I..." Harry swallows. "I met someone. We kissed."

The worry seeps from Sirius' face immediately and is replaced by soft understanding. "How did that happen?"

Harry is hesitant at first, not sure if Sirius will be angry that Harry agreed to let a stranger accompany him home or not, but he desperately needs someone to put what happened into perspective because Harry is way too confused by his own thoughts right now.

Sirius seems to sense his confusion. He listens patiently, doesn't interrupt. When Harry finishes, his godfather smiles. "Did you like the kiss?"

Harry shrugs. "It was... different. Than with Cho."

"Good different or bad different?"

"Good?"

Harry has no idea what his face looks like, but apparently it is amusing for Sirius chuckles. "You're confused." Harry answers with a half-shrug, lost for words. "Do you want to see him again, knowing he is interested in you?"

Harry gives that some thought. He had a nice time with Nathan, the conversation flowed easily and Nathan is interesting. Harry wants to know about the piercing, the jacket...

Eventually, he settles on, "Yes."

"Then do. And don't try so hard to put a label on anything just yet. You're young, you're allowed to experiment, try different things. No one has ever known what he likes right from the start."

A noise from the door makes them both look around. Remus has stopped in the doorway, a questioning look on his face whether he is intruding or not.

"Isn't that right, Moony?"

Remus proceeds into the room, snatching the mug from his partner. "What?"

"That teenagers should experiment since no one knows exactly what he likes from the start?"

Harry watches as Remus quickly puts the puzzle of what they are talking about together and nods. "Very."

"But I always thought," Harry tries to voice his thoughts, then starts over. "I went out with Cho. We kissed."

Remus laughs at that. "Oh Harry, do you have any idea how many girls Sirius seduced before he finally admitted it's just not for him?"

Surprised, Harry looks at his godfather, who blushes. Harry has ever seen Sirius blush. "Yes, some parts of my pureblood heritage clang to me a bit longer than others. But I came around eventually," he adds, stealing a kiss from his partner.

Remus sighs. "After too much drama for my tastes, but come around you did."

Harry suspects there is a story there but he doesn't want to ask since he doubts he would be able to pay attention long enough.

"So see him again," Sirius encourages. "And if things progress, tell us - I still owe you the talk."

Slightly horrified, Harry's eyes widen. "I'm sure there is a book I can read, isn't there?"

"Suddenly he's a bookworm," Sirius chides, but there is a fondness in his voice.

Remus chuckles. "Sirius decided he'd be the one to teach you the facts about life the moment Lilly told us she was pregnant."

"And I will not break that promise," Sirius swears, though his light-heartedness carries a touch of something more serious which is why Harry nods.

"Alright, but not today."

"It's late," his godfather concedes and squeezes Harry's shoulder. "You belong in bed."

It's only when Harry is halfway out of the kitchen, that Sirius calls after him, "Enjoy your wet dreams!" and Harry is rather glad no one is there to see him turn crimson.

XXX

Harry spends the next two evenings at the coffee shop, chatting with Nathan between customers and enjoying the company on his walk home.

They snog longer every night and after their third session, Harry has to steal into his room for an embarrassingly quick wank before he is in any condition to face his godfather.

Who smirks knowingly when Harry eventually shows his face in the kitchen.

"I take it you two had fun?"

Harry's nod is heart-felt. "He's free tomorrow and asked if I might want to come over..." He trails of suggestively, knowing Sirius will fill in the gaps.

Sirius breaks into a wide smile. "Do you want the talk now or tomorrow before you visit him?"

Harry splutters but manages to catch himself quickly. After a little bit of thinking, he opts for today. It's already late so Sirius might not draw it out too long.

It's not as embarrassing as Harry has feared it would be. His godfather is very frank about everything as he tells him about tops, bottoms, the wonders of the prostate and the art of oral sex.

Remus strays into the kitchen halfway through The Talk and decides to stay, adding information here and there.

"Nathan is a Muggle, so you will do the preparations manually," Remus explains, "but amongst wizards there are spells you can use. _Extendio_ is the most common, it stretches your partner appropriately. _Unctus facio_ is the lubrication spell. Both are nonverbal."

"With those it's best you try them alone first to prevent awkward mishaps," Sirius smirks.

"How long will you joke about that?" Remus asks him, colour rising in his face and Harry's mind is suddenly too full of mental pictures of his godfather and Remus which he does not need.

"What about oral?" Harry tries to change the subject. "Is there a secret? Some special technique?"

"That's a question for the philosophers," Sirius announces with in mock solemnity which causes Remus to slap his arm playfully.

"I'm afraid not, Harry. The secret is practice. And I think, talent. But every partner is different and prefers different things, so you need to think on your feet."

"On your knees, he means to say," Sirius quips, which earns him a shove this time.

"Do you have any more questions?" Harry shakes his head since he can't think of anything.

Sirius smiles "If you do, don't hesitate to ask, alright?"

"Thanks," Harry says and gets to his feet, Sirius and Remus mirroring him. Giving in to his urge, he closes the distance between his godfather and him, pulling him into a tight hug. After a moment's surprised hesitation, Sirius hugs him back equally tight.

XXX

That night, Harry stays up until three in the morning, head full of phantasies, thoughts, possibilities. He imagines what might happen when he visits Nathan the next day, how much they might do, what it would mean for their relationship.

In the end, it goes a little different than he outlined it in his head - but it's better.

Nathan shows him a new video game of his and Harry loses spectacularly, which is somewhat unsurprising as he never was allowed access to Dudley's games. The next thing he knows, Nathan and he are snogging on the sofa.

It's familiar and at the same time it isn't - there is a desperate edge to it now that they aren't standing on the pavement underneath a lamppost. Harry feels the tell-tale heat pool in his groin and doesn't fight off the erection that is forming inside his jeans.

Nathan's hand on his chest travels lower, across his chest and abdomen, sliding past his groin to his thigh and up again. Harry lets his own hands roam over Nathan's lithe form and, gathering all the courage he has, covers the bulge in Nathan's trousers with his hand.

Nathan's hips buckle as he thrusts into his hand with a moan, a sound which makes Harry's cock twitch.

Nathan pulls back and for a second, Harry worries that he did something wrong but the blond is smiling maliciously, eyes dark, pupils dilated.

"Two can play that game," he whispers in a low voice and the next thing Harry knows, Nathan is pushing him back and slides off the sofa.

It's only when the boy is on his knees and works Harry's fly open that what is about to happen registers.

"You sure?" Harry asks because Sirius was adamant about making sure both parties are enjoying themselves.

Nathan winks. "I like it. You could say I'm gagging for it," he adds, hooking his fingers in the waistband of both Harry's trousers and pants, tugging them down in one go and just like that, Harry is naked from the hips down.

Nathan just looks at first, eyes so sodding hungry that it makes Harry's cock leak copious amounts of precome. Nathan's eyes widen when he sees the fluid trickle down the glans and before Harry can brace himself, the blond licks at the tip of his cock and it takes all of his self-control to keep his hips still.

Nathan takes a hold of the shaft next, moves it up and down slowly, lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of Harry's cock for torturous moments before he swallows Harry down.

Harry's vision blacks out for a second as the wet heat envelopes him. Nathan starts moving, setting a quick rhythm that has Harry gasping and writhing, thrusting up into his mouth because self-control went out the window the second Nathan went down on him.

"I'm close," Harry remembers to warn and Nathan pulls off but keeps fisting his cock quickly. Suddenly, there is a hand at Harry's balls and it's too much - with a shout, Harry topples over the edge, coming harder than he ever has on his own.

It takes him a minute or two to gather his wits but when he has, he is met with a truly erotic sight. Nathan is still kneeling but has opened his jeans. He has his cock in his hand and is stroking himself in long, hard movements.

Something silver catches Harry's eye - it looks like a piercing. Harry slides off the couch and in front of Nathan to get a closer look. A small silver ball is coming out of Nathan's slit with another one sitting exactly where the glans ends and the shaft begins.

Harry glances up when Nathan's hand stills and finds the blond looking down, mouth agape and eyes half closed.

Daringly, Harry stretches his hand out to touch.

As soon as he feels another hand on his erection, Nathan retracts his own hand and leans back as if presenting himself. Harry doesn't need to be told twice.

He jerks Nathan off but takes his time, loving the way the boy's breath hitches every time Harry wipes his thumb over the piercing, loving how Nathan whimpers in the need for more.

Harry speeds up his movements, fascinated by the sounds that escape Nathan's throat until his own orgasm rips through him and he spills all over Harry's hand.

Nathan is breathing heavily, eyes unfocussed as the aftershocks subside. His eyes immediately fall on Harry's which is still covered in his come.

Wordlessly, Nathan pulls the hand towards him and licks it.

Harry can feel his blood rush south for the second time that afternoon and by the time his hand is clean he is hard again.

Nathan smirks. "I'd like you to shag me, Harry."

His brain stops working for a few seconds and only comes back online when Nathan removes his t-shirt and wriggles out of his pants.

"Would you like that?"

"Yes," Harry breathes, then remembers to add, "but I've never..."

Nathan seems neither surprised nor offended. "I figured as much. Do you want to watch me prepare myself?"

His throat goes dry, so all he can do is nod.

"Let's take this to my bedroom," Nathan suggests and rises to his feet, offering Harry a hand. Once Harry is standing again, Nathan tugs at his shirt and, getting the clue, Harry takes it off too.

It's the first time he has ever been naked in front of anyone who wasn't a team mate n the Quidditch locker rooms but Harry doesn't feel the urge to cover himself. He knows he looks alright, flying has made him fit and given him a layer of muscle.

Nathan's eyes are darkening again as he looks Harry up and down.

"Blimey, Harry. You're really hot."

"Thank you, you are, too."

Licking his lips, Nathan grabs Harry's hand and tugs him along into the bedroom a few metres away from the sofa. He motions for him to get comfortable while Nathan retrieves a condom and a bottle of lubricant from his night stand.

Harry can't look away and has to resist the decisive urge to touch himself as Nathan winds his arm around his body and presses one slick finger inside his hole. Soon, he adds a second finger and increases his movements. Harry realises he is stretching himself and his breath hitches as Nathan slides a third finger in.

Nathan bears down on his own hand, fucking himself on it until his cock is flushed and leaking against his even stomach.

"Put the condom on," Nathan breathes out and Harry quickly rips the wrapping open, mentally thanking Sirius for handing him a few to practise.

He slips the condom on and looks back at Nathan, who is lying on his back, legs spread invitingly.

Harry crawls up along his body, brushing their cocks together as he leans down and captures Nathan's lips in a heated kiss.

"You ready?" he asks, waiting for Nathan's brief nod before he lines himself up.

He pushes in slowly, inch by inch, trying to memorise the incredible feeling. Nathan is unbelievably tight despite all the stretching, and he feels delicious around Harry's cock.

He watches Nathan's face for any sign of discomfort, then thrusts deeper when he sees none. Once he is fully sheathed, he stops, giving them both a moment to adjust to the position.

Nathan rolls his hips, sending jolts of pleasure through Harry's body in an attempt to show he can start moving.

He does, pulling out almost entirely before he thrusts back in, slowly at first but soon it's not enough and his hips move faster but Nathan is meeting him at every thrust so Harry keeps increasing his pace.

He isn't going to last long so he braces himself on his left arm only and wraps his right hand around Nathan's erection, working him in time with his thrusts, thumb toying with the piercing every chance he gets.

Nathan has his head thrown back, eyes closed in pleasure. He moans when Harry's thumb worries the piercing again, but that reaction is nothing compared to how the blond shouts after Harry changes the angle slightly.

His prostate, Harry's mind supplies. He makes sure to hit the same spot again and again even when his rhythm falters as he feels a tightening in is balls but he holds himself back, set on driving Nathan over the edge first.

He doesn't need to wait long before the boy comes in long spurts all over his own stomach and chest. Harry releases his cock and takes a hold of his hips instead, allowing his rhythm to become erratic for a few more thrusts before he, too, finds release.

XXX

Harry has tasted blood and now, there is no way back.

Whenever he is not out with Sirius or visiting Ron and Hermione at the Burrow, he goes to Nathan whose parents are conveniently never home since they have high-pressure jobs.

They shag on every adequate surface. Nathan guides Harry through his first blow job and Harry finds out he likes giving head, likes having the power to reduce Nathan to a whimpering mess when his tongue works the silver piercing just the right way. After a week of more orgasms than Harry can count, Nathan asks whether he can show Harry something else.

"On your stomach," the blond says and Harry complies, spreading out on the covers of Nathan's bed.

Then Nathan's tongue is licking a wet trail from his neck along his spine, lower and lower until he stops just above the crack of his arse. The hands on his cheeks make Harry jump but Nathan soothes him, rubbing gentle circles into his buttocks before pulling his cheeks apart.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sensation that follows. Nathan tongues his hole, circling the perineum but not breaching the ring of muscle.

Harry's cock is dripping where it is pressed into the sheets and it twitches when the tongue finally enters him.

Harry's toes curl in pleasure as Nathan's tongue dips deeper, exploring, circling inside, stretching him open. Harry's body goes completely slack under the administrations and soon, Nathan spreads his cheeks even further and pushes in deeper.

Harry is fucking himself on the tongue and Nathan lets him, occasionally pulling out almost completely, bringing his lips down to suck ever so lightly and that's when it becomes too much, too much sensation, too much pleasure and with a shout, Harry comes without a hand on his cock.

Nathan licks his way back up, nibbling at his ear for a second before he whispers, "Imagine how good my cock would feel inside you..."

Harry whines pathetically as his own cock twitches feebly and tries to get hard again, but it will take a little while longer.

"Give me a bit to catch my breath," Harry says. He shivers when he feels Nathan's erection press against his arse.

"I'll put on a condom, then."

Harry nods, mind clearing slowly.

"What do you say," Nathan says and a glance reveals he is carrying the lube bottle as well when he returns to the bed, "that I finger you open until you're hard again? Shouldn't take long, I think."

Instead of answering, Harry moves into a kneeling position, facing away from Nathan, knowing it is all the consent the boy needs. The sound of a cap being opened, followed by the familiar squeeze as the lube flows out of the bottle and then, Nathan's finger is circling his hole.

Without problems, Nathan works two fingers into him, scissors them effectively and soon adds a third finger. True to his word, Nathan works him longer than probably necessary to stretch him, but the sensation is not unpleasant.

Then however, Nathan crooks his fingers and brushes against a spot inside him and Harry yelps.

"There it is," Nathan chuckles and proceeds massaging Harry's prostate, sending jolt after jolt of pleasure through his body.

His cock springs to attention in no time.

Harry hears Nathan opening a condom wrapping, then slip it on. Seconds later, there is a pressure against his hole and Harry wills himself to relax because he knows it makes this easier.

Nathan goes slowly, stops when he feels Harry tense at the intrusion and pauses when he is buried eventually balls-deep inside him.

"Tell me when I can move," Nathan whispers and kisses Harry's shoulder.

Harry allows his body time to adjust before he gives Nathan the sign to move and when he does, the discomfort soon gives way to pleasure, one thrust at a time. It helps that Nathan makes sure he hits Harry's prostate at every other thrust and the piercing just adds to the delicious effect.

Harry gives up on coherent thought altogether. He never wants to do anything else in his life than have Nathan's cock inside of him, the sensations are overwhelming and easily the best Harry has ever felt in his entire life.

He moans and whimpers, breath ragged and he pushes back, meeting Nathan halfway.

Nathan wraps a hand around Harry' cock and works every one of his buttons until Harry is writhing, not knowing whether he should push back or thrust into Nathan's hand. His orgasm takes him by surprise, ripping through him with more power than a stunning spell and for a few seconds Harry thinks he sees stars.

Nathan's hands are on his hips again and his thrusts turn deeper, stronger, faster for a few minutes while Harry is coming down from his orgasm. Nathan cries out his name when he pushes in one last time, then he stills as a tremor runs through his body that Harry can only feel because Nathan's torso is pressed against his back.

They both collapse on the bed in a pile of limps and sweat.

"I'm never leaving this bed," Harry swears, making Nathan chuckle.

"I second that..."

For several minutes, the only sound in the room is that of their breathing as it evens out gradually.

"What about a shower and another round? You can ride me this time," Nathan adds an octave or so lower.

Harry doesn't need to be told twice.

XXX

The summer passes quickly between spending time with his family, friends and Nathan and before Harry knows it, he is turning 16.

Which, of course, he can't really tell Nathan about since he thinks Harry already is 17, so Harry tells him his best friend celebrates his birthday instead which is why Harry can't come over that Thursday.

Sirius gives him a mobile phone with a prepaid card, a magical pocket knife with a lot of useful features and - which Harry won't tell a living soul he received - a dildo, lube and condoms that will hopefully last the summer.

"If not, I can reveal where we keep our stash," Sirius only half-jokes judging by his expression.

"You do realise that those condoms are about a year old? I have no idea if they're still durable," Remus points out and yet again Harry finds his mind supplying him with images he really doesn't need.

Remus' presents are spell-books, mostly about Defence Against the Dark Arts, but he discovers one smaller book amongst them which features moving drawing of sexual positions as well as step-by-step instructions for nonverbal spells, all referring to gay sex.

Harry blinks at his former professor, not sure if he manages to keep the flush from his face.

"In light of recent events I thought it might come in handy," Remus explains with a smile.

Harry's "Thank you" is heart-felt.

Mrs Weasley told him in no uncertain terms when he last visited that she would be delighted to invite him as well as Sirius and Remus over to tea and dinner on his birthday and Harry saw no reason to decline.

When the three arrive at the Burrow, half the Order is also there, already drinking tea.

Grimmauld Place still functions as HQ, so Harry sees most of the members quite often. Unfortunately, Snape is one of them but to his relief, Molly didn't invite him.

There is cake. A great supper, and a lot of laughter. Hermione and Ron have banded together to buy Harry an exclusive pair of dragon hide gloves for Quidditch which he admiringly puts on immediately.

"I have to say, this is a lot more useful than the talking homework journal of last year," he admits, only to have Hermione throw a bit of gift wrapping at him.

"If you had used it, I'm sure it would have proven very useful!"

After supper, Fred and George lead them all outside, preparing to show off their latest generation of magical fireworks. The breath-taking show that follows is their present to Harry, along with a large bag of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

The only downside of the celebration is that Harry never catches Ron and Hermione alone. He talked it over with Sirius and he decided to come out to them, tell them about his discovery.

He is getting nervous just thinking about it, however unjustified that is. They are his friends, whether he is gay or straight or nothing at all.

Resigned to finding another day to tell them, Harry takes a sip from his punch and smiles while listening to Ron and Hermione argue over sharing another piece of cake.

XXX

On August 3rd, Draco and his mother finally manage to visit Diagon Alley for Draco's Hogwarts shopping.

It is child's play to wander off on his own. A mere mention of Fay's Fabulous Fashion makes Narcissa's eyes light up and after assuring her he is fine on his own, she leaves in the direction of the clothing shop, allowing Draco to visit Borgin and Burkes.

Inspiration finally came three days ago after weeks of fretting over the task he has been given.

Graham Montague. In fifth year, Draco laughed at the boy's stupidity but today, he can't be more grateful for the information that there is, in fact, a way to enter Hogwarts without causing alarm.

The thought of Greyback is revolting, yet Draco can't deny he is a convenient way to blackmail others.

Deeply satisfied with today's accomplishments, Draco leaves the shop and sets off to find his mother.

XXX

Nathan keeps Harry very much distracted the following weeks, especially now that they can text when they aren't together (and really, it's more sexting than anything else) but Malfoy's odd behaviour in Knockturn Alley at Borgin and Burkes occupies a place at the back of his mind the entire rest of the summer.

"He's a Death Eater," Harry realises with a start two weeks later. "He replaced his father as a Death Eater!"

Unfortunately, neither Ron nor Hermione seem to share his theory. After he takes the pile of dirty Quidditch robes down to the washing room for Kreacher to take care of that night, Harry has calmed down somewhat, reminding himself why he asked Ron and Hermione to come to Grimmauld Place in the first place instead of joining them at the Burrow where they would probably have drowned in Phlegm with Fleur about the house.

He wants to finally out himself to his best friends. Sirius has sworn he will not interrupt them that afternoon, giving Harry ample time to break the news.

Confident, he goes back upstairs and finds Hermione still immersed in her book about Ancient Runes while Ron is reading something about Quidditch.

"Guys?" he probes as he flops down on the ground again. "There's a reason I asked you to come over today."

Ron snorts. "Other than the war zone the Burrow has become?"

They share a laugh but Harry quickly sobers up. Hermione, obviously sensing something important is to come, closes her book and puts it aside.

"What is it, Harry?"

"I met someone," he begins, reciting one of many speeches he thought of during the past few days. "We've become... close, these past few weeks."

Both Hermione's as well as Ron's eyes widen in surprise.

"Congratulations, mate! Got yourself a Muggle girl, I reckon?" his best friends assumes as he squeezes Harry's shoulder affectionately.

"His name is Nathan," Harry admits, somewhat bluntly.

It takes a few moments for the information to sink in. Ron suddenly pulls his hand back as if burned.

"Nathan's a bloke's name, mate."

"Nathan is a bloke."

Hermione smiles. "Are you telling us you're gay? Or bisexual?"

"Gay, probably..." Harry knew Hermione wouldn't react averse to the idea, but it's still nice to have confirmation.

Ron, on the other hand, doesn't look amused in the slightest.

"You a poofter now?"

"Ron!" Hermione chides, not at all gently.

Harry splutters, completely taken aback by how his best friend is reacting. "I think the politically correct term is homosexual, but... I guess I am."

"Mate, that's just a phase, it will pass!"

"I thought so, too, but I have a boyfriend!"

"Who's he, some old Muggle who has a thing for underage blokes?"

"He's 19! We've been seeing each other for four weeks!"

"Come on, this is a joke, isn't it? You kissed Cho Chang, bloody hell!"

Harry can't believe his ears. Why is Ron so angry? Why can't he simply be happy that Harry has figured out his sexual identity with very little drama?

"It didn't feel as good as kissing Nathan," Harry insists defensively, but Ron is having none of that apparently.

"You just haven't met the right girl yet."

"Ronald," Hermione interjects, "are you listening to yourself? Harry is gay, be happy for him that he figured it out!"

"Happy?" Ron glares at Hermione. "I showered with him! The whole dorm did!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asks hotly as the confusion suddenly turns to anger. "I never looked at any of you that way!"

"Bet that's gonna change now, mate, isn't it?" Ron grabs his book so hard his knuckles whiten as he jumps to his feet. "How are we supposed to know what you're thinking about when you're in the dormitory while we're changing?"

"Ron!" Hermione tries again but both Harry and Ron ignore her.

"You're my best friend, bloody hell, I don't feel about you that way, can you stop being so unreasonable!"

"Unreasonable? You're unreasonable!"

"And how's that?"

"It's wrong, can't you see that?"

Harry recoils, positively jumping back. "Wrong?"

"Yeah! This older bloke seduced you and now you're thinking that's what you are? Mate, it's not normal!"

"Of course it is! Look at Sirius and Lupin!"

"What about them?"

"They're partners! Lovers! They're shagging!" Harry is shouting now, his temper getting the better of him.

Ron's face pales. "They're poofters, too? How sick are you?"

"We're not sick at all!" Harry takes a step in Ron's direction only to see his friend step back, raising a hand to stop him.

"Don't come near me!" Ron warns.

"I'm not going to infect you, if that's what you're worried about!" Harry shouts and comes closer but he doesn't get far before Ron shoves him away. It catches Harry completely off guard and he falls back, landing on his - unfortunately still sore - arse.

"I'm out of here," Ron says and storms out.

"Wait!" Hermione calls and hurries after him while Harry climbs to his feet with a wince.

When he reaches the fireplace in the second living room on his floor, Ron is already gone.

Hermione turns towards him and hugs him tightly.

"I'm sure he's just overreacting. I'll talk to him, alright? He'll cool down and you'll be laughing about this in no time."

But something about her tone is off and Harry's stomach sinks when he considers the possibility that Ron might not come to his senses.

Thankfully, Hermione interrupts his thoughts, saying, "Tell me about this Nathan" and Harry can distract himself by telling Hermione all about the past few weeks with the blond Muggle in as many details as she wants to hear.

Which are quite a lot, as it turns out.

XXX

A week passes and Ron still hasn't answered any of his owls. Hermione, she told him, has been trying to talk to him but apparently the idea of Harry being gay is so horrible in Ron's mind that nothing she can say will change that.

"That berk!" Hermione curses when she comes over for supper on the last Saturday of the holidays. "I've known him six years now and I never thought he'd be such an idiot!"

"You're sure there is no way he might still come around?" Harry asks hopefully as he sets the table in the dining room. Remus and Sirius are cooking in the kitchen.

Hermione's face falls even further and her eyes turn sad. "I'm sorry Harry, but I doubt it."

Harry can't speak for several minutes. Ever since his first day at Hogwarts, Ron was a part of his life, hell, he was his best friend. They went through everything together. What does this mean? That it's over, just like that?

Without a word, Hermione takes the plates he is still holding from him, sets them in the table and pulls him into a tight hug. It takes Harry a moment to remember how his limbs are supposed to work but when he does he pulls Hermione closer, grateful for her friendship.

"This looks like we're interrupting something," Sirius' voice comes from the door.

Slowly, Harry pulls back, murmuring a "Thank you" which only Hermione can hear, and turns towards his godfather.

"Ron's not coming around."

Genuine regret passes over Sirius' features and the next thing he knows he is being hugged again.

"If he can't accept you, he doesn't deserve to be your friend," Sirius says and Harry knows he is right but it still hurts a lot to realise his best mate isn't who he thought he was.

"Give yourself time. You'll get over him. And if I'm correct, you still have this stunning witch to call your friend," he adds, smiling at Hermione who finishes what Harry started.

Hermione smiles brightly, though her eyes are shining a little more than usual. "He does."


	2. Penetration

**Chapter 2 - Penetration **

**Summary:** Harry returns to Hogwarts, unable to call Ron his best friend anymore. Meanwhile, Draco tries to execute his cunning plan.

**Author's Notes:** Relatively canon-compliant until right after Christmas, just without Ron in the picture.

As vernie_klein pointed out, Nathan is rather naïve in this chapter. Well, yeah :)

XXX

_Baby, can't you see? I'm calling _  
_A guy like you should wear a warning_  
_It's dangerous, I'm fallin'_

_There's no escape, I can't wait _  
_I need a hit_  
_Baby, give me it_  
_You're dangerous, I'm lovin' it_

_- "Toxic", A Static Lullaby_

XXX

One last time this summer, Harry spends the night at Nathan's. His parents are away for business, have been on more than one occasion in the past few weeks, and they always made the best use of the opportunity.

Harry has been thinking a lot about how to broach the subject of his upcoming term. He doesn't think they have developed feelings for each other - whatever this is between them is mostly about sex and pleasure. They didn't have any deep, meaningful talks about their pasts, their feelings or aspirations. Their conversations never surpass trivial small talk before one of them looks at the other the wrong (or rather, the right) way, and they end up shagging each other crazy.

As far as Harry can tell, what they share is nothing more than fun between two consenting individuals. Still, Harry is slightly nervous as he watches Nathan stroke his chest after round one of that night.

"Nathan," he starts. The blond looks up, not ceasing his movements. "I'm back at school on Monday."

Nathan's forehead creases slightly. "The one without reception or a landline?"

Harry nods.

"So, this is our last night? For the summer? Or... for good?"

"I don't know," Harry admits. "I'll probably be back for Christmas but I don't know what my godfather has planned."

Nathan smirks, apparently happy with Harry's vague answer. "We can cross that bridge when we come to it. Just text me when you're back, alright? We can see if we find the time."

Relief floods Harry when it registers that there will be no hard feelings and he smiles, wide and genuine, before his smile turns wicked. "Since this is our last night, we better make it worth it."

XXX

On Sunday morning, Harry and Nathan share a few last hours of pleasure before Harry leaves to make it to lunch at Grimmauld Place.

Sirius chuckles as he barges into the kitchen at exactly one o'clock without a second to spare.

"I'm surprised he let you go at all."

"Good for me that he isn't into bondage, then," Harry smirks. It took him a while to become as laid back about how open Sirius and Remus have been talking about sex ever since Harry told them about Nathan but eventually, he came around.

Sirius throws his head back and laughs out loud, then he ruffles Harry's hair affectionately before he pushes a big bowl of salad into his hands.

"I'll miss having you around."

"I'll miss being here."

"I'll ask you about that again in two weeks when you've settled back in at Hogwarts," Sirius says with a wink, giving him a gentle shove out the door into the dining room.

Harry knows his godfather is right, but after what happened with Ron, Harry isn't as enthusiastic about his return to school as he usually would have been.

The prospect of studying under Slughorn isn't very enticing either. Harry knows first impressions can be wrong, but the greedy way the man considered him made his skin crawl. He knows there is nothing sexual about Slughorn's interest, yet the encounter left Harry feeling dirty nonetheless. Dumbledore owes him, he muses.

Later that night, a knock on the door startles Harry while he is packing his trunk. Well, if one can consider haphazardly throwing things into it packing...

"Come in," he calls and a moment later, Sirius pushes the door open. He carries a small cardboard box and wears a cocky smile.

"I can see our approaches to packing are quite alike," his godfather comments as he sets down the boy on Harry's bed between a pile of trousers and socks.

"Well, it works. What is that?"

"Something I found in the attic, somewhat of a treasure I'd believed lost," Sirius explains with an air of mystery. "It's your start of term present."

Warily, reminding himself that Sirius used to be a Marauder, Harry pulls the lid off, uncovering a stack of magazines. They look like normal wizarding magazines with glossy covers, though the fading colours attest to their age.

Intrigued, Harry glances up at Sirius, who motions him to go on. Harry picks up the one at the top and flips him open.

He is met with the sight of picture after picture of naked men, moving is rather intimate situations.

Sirius is giving him porn.

"Is this your old collection?" Harry asks, acutely aware how high his voice sounds.

Sirius grins. "The best part of it. I left them here before I moved into the Potter's house, though. Too much to pack. I guess Regulus found them and saved them."

Harry nods absently as he pours through the magazines, noting that not all of them are strictly vanilla. He raises an eyebrow at one particularly explicit BDSM photo strip, causing Sirius to chuckle.

"I tried everything at least once," he explains. "Keep them hidden, I'm not sure if pornography is allowed at Hogwarts."

"No idea... I guess I should listen to the list of banned artefacts this year, though?"

They share a laugh and Sirius gives him a quick hug. "Finish packing and go to bed. I have a feeling you didn't get much sleep last night."

Grinning, Harry does just that, leaving the box for last. He might as well take a closer look at them before he falls asleep...

XXX

The few moments on platform nine and three quarters are terribly awkward since Ron positively flees when his mother catches sight of Harry, the big black dog Padfood and Remus and she doesn't even mention it or ask.

Harry doesn't know whether he should be worried or not since obviously Mrs Weasley has no idea what is going on between Ron and him.

Judging by Ginny's confused and annoyed expression as she watches her brother run off, she also has no clue. She might, however, ask so Harry is more than glad when she excuses herself to find her spot next to Dean and Harry ends up sharing a compartment with Neville and Luna.

XXX

A Malfoy knows how to fade into the background just as well as he knows how to draw attention - a skill Draco is incredibly grateful for when his mother and he step onto platform nine and three quarters this year.

A few stares and some whispers are the extent of the effect their appearance has on the people amongst them and as quickly as possible, Draco scans the platform for any sign of Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy or Blaise.

His eyes, however, are drawn to a boy he only recognises because some sick part of his mind has memorised the way he moves.

Draco's jaw almost drops at the sight of Harry Potter. The boy has changed. He isn't wearing glasses (Draco has never seen him without the hideous things and now he finds that to be a travesty) and neither is he wearing those ill-fitting Muggle clothes that hid his body and looked like he bought them second hand.

Potter is all hard lines, accentuated by slim fitting, dark jeans and a tight, Gryffindor red shirt with a V-neck that exposes his collar bone which draws Draco's attention towards it. Draco knows from seeing him in Quidditch robes and school uniforms that Potter is fit but to see his broad chest and shoulders accentuated like that with tight fabric hugging his hips and arse... Damn.

"Draco, there you are!"

Pansy. His salvation. Draco turns, schooling his somewhat derailed expression into his usual sneer as he faces the girl.

Inwardly, his desperation mounts. How is he supposed to focus on ignoring Potter when that bloody boy choses this summer to undergo a sodding make-over?

XXX

"_Petrificus Totalus_!"

Malfoy's hex catches him completely unawares and Harry falls of the luggage rack onto the floor where he has no choice but to lie, immobilised.

"I thought so," Malfoy sneers down at him, pulling the Cloak off him. "I heard Goyle's trunk hit you. And I thought I saw something white flash through the air after Zabini came back... That was you blocking the door, I suppose?"

Harry tries his best to glare, even under the body bind curse. Unimpressed, Malfoy considers him from above, eyebrows slightly creased as though contemplating his options. For a brief second, Harry glimpses a spark of something, a fire in Malfoy's grey eyes but it's gone before Harry can put a proper name on it.

"You didn't hear anything I care about, Potter," Malfoy finally says. "But keep out of my business in the future or I won't be so lenient."

Malfoy grabs his trunk and opens the compartment door, stopping briefly to release Harry with a flick of his wand.

He sits up immediately, yet doesn't hurry after Malfoy. Let him think he is safe for now, but if Malfoy honestly thinks Harry will let it go after what he heard and saw, the Slytherin has another thing coming.

XXX

Mere hours later, his resolute mood has faded into depression.

Ron isn't even looking at him. Snape will teach Defence Against The Dark Arts. He should have stayed in Grimmauld Place, Harry mentally chides himself when he heads up to his dormitory and registers raised voices that undoubtedly belong to his fellow dorm mates.

Everyone falls silent once he opens the door which immediately confirms his suspicion that they were arguing about him.

"Harry, can you explain why Ron's acting like a daft git?" Seamus demands hotly. Neville only looks confused, Dean annoyed and Ron doesn't meet Harry's eye.

"What's going on?"

"Dear Ronald here wants me to change beds with him and he refuses to tell me why, just said you two had a fallout," Seamus explains, gesturing from Ron to the bed. "But there's no way I'll swap without a reason. A real reason, not just that you two had a little domestic," he adds, voice dripping in sarcasm.

Obviously Seamus doesn't believe this is anything serious and suddenly, Harry has a decision to make, whether he wants to or not. Does he tell the truth? His instinctual response is yes, but as his issues with Ron show, Harry might have misjudged his friends and their supposedly tolerant nature.

Still, he can't think of anything that might adequately explain the situation.

"Well?" Seamus presses on.

"Ron's not talking to me anymore," Harry finally says.

"Old news, lad, we need to know what the bloody problem is."

Harry takes a breath that is supposed to be calming but fails entirely at that. "I'm gay. Ron thinks it's unnatural, or sick, I don't know. I guess that's why he wants to change beds."

Harry is incredibly tense as he waits for his house mates' reactions.

Dean raises an eyebrow, asking "You're gay?" at the same time that Neville wonders, "Really?".

Seamus breaks out laughing and Harry doesn't know whether to be offended or relieved.

"Lad, stop pulling our legs. Tell me something real."

When Harry all but stares at him in confusion, Seamus' laughter fades into wide-eyed astonishment. "Wait, you're not pulling our legs?"

"No," Harry assures him.

Then, Seamus levels an icy glare at Ron and stomps towards him. "What the bloody hell, Ron? That's your best mate you're talking about! How can you say he's sick? What age are you from, anyway?"

Ron pales, completely taken aback, yet catches himself fairly quickly. "It's not normal, Seamus! And he's sharing our dorm! Our showers!"

"They're Harry's showers, too, you know," Dean cuts in, apparently trying to calm the situation and Harry feels an immediate rush of fondness for his fellow Gryffindors.

"Are you for real?" Seamus barges on but Dean's hand on his shoulder brings him up short. Instead of continuing to harass Ron, Seamus grabs his trunk and drags it to the bed next to Harry's in the corner.

"There you go, Ronald. I hope you'll be comfortable."

Glaring just as much as Seamus, Ron pulls his trunk across the room and begins to unpack.

"You alright there, Harry?" Seamus asks.

He nods, looking from Seamus to Dean to Neville. "Thanks."

Seamus just huffs. "Not at all. Ever heard of the Kinsey scale?"

"Not that again, Seamus," Dean sighs, choking whatever story Seamus had up his sleeve.

"How long have you known?" Neville looks curious, if Harry interprets his expression correctly.

"Since this summer. I met a Muggle."

"I doubt you could get it on with a wizard without the Daily Prophet covering the story," Seamus snorts.

Harry laughs, even if it is a little strained. "So you don't have a problem with this?"

Seamus just chuckles derisively while Neville shakes his head.

"You're not planning to hit on us, are you?" Dean asks.

"No worries. Besides, I don't want to attract Ginny's wrath," Harry jokes, which seems to put Dean at ease, finally.

Still, Harry doesn't get much sleep that night. Will the whole school know tomorrow? What would that mean?

More than a little queasy, Harry decides to ask his dorm mates to keep the information to themselves.

XXX

Harry's sixth year passes at surprising speed even without Ron's incessant presence at his side.

Hermione helps him with the sheer incredible amount of homework they have to deal with. Harry manages to receive detention with Snape by the end of the second week. Quidditch try-outs pass quite well, even though Harry doubts McLaggen will survive the entire year if he keeps pushing Harry like that. Lessons with Dumbledore are a definite improvement over Occlumency lessons with Snape...

And then, there is the trip to Hogsmeade with the Katie Bell incident, which Harry immediately attributes to Malfoy, but neither Hermione nor McGonagall seem to take his theory seriously.

He watches Malfoy more closely over the next few days but all too soon, the stress of the upcoming Quidditch match forces him to pay more attention to the field, respectively one Cormack McLaggen.

The last practise before their match against Slytherin is probably the worst Harry has ever experienced. It isn't that they are bad per se - the problem is that McLaggen makes everyone want to kill him, costing them vital energy.

"ENOUGH!" Harry bellows as McLaggen honest-to-God takes the bat out of Peakes' hands and demonstrates how one best hits a bludger. "ON THE GROUND!"

He is acutely aware of the few spectators on the stands, unfortunately also a group of young girls, one Romilda Vane amongst them and Harry wishes he had already outed himself to the entire school somehow, just to keep them off.

Once everyone has landed, Harry rounds on McLaggen, thrilled to see every other team member glare at their keeper.

"Care to explain why you were holding Peakes' bat?"

"He was holding it wrong-"

"And you've waited until today to point that out?"

"It's the first chance-"

"You couldn't have mentioned it after practice?"

"I-"

"How about the time you took the quaffle from Demelza because she was apparently also holding it wrong?"

"She was-"

"Stop interrupting me."

McLaggen's mouth snaps shut immediately. He looks incredibly annoyed but also somewhat intimidated.

"And stop acting like you're the bloody captain of this team. You are the keeper and it's your job to guard the posts and ensure that the rest of your team can concentrate on their jobs so that we, as a team, can win the match tomorrow and if you don't get yourself together this very second, tomorrow will be the last time you ever play for Gryffindor this year. Are we clear?"

A muscle in McLaggen's jaw twitches but he doesn't object. He looks decently chastised.

"Yes, we're clear."

"Then show me. Back on your brooms, everyone!"

The change in McLaggen is drastic to say the least. At the end of the day, Harry is optimistic that they stand a good chance against Slytherin.

XXX

Draco manages a solid zero hours of sleep before the day of the Quidditch match. He spent hours in the Room of Requirement, trying to figure out what still refused to work in the Vanishing Cabinet only to toss and turn from three to six willing his erection down, unwillingly thinking about Harry bloody Potter in his sodding tight Quidditch robes chasing after him on a broom the next morning.

At half six, the decision is made - no Quidditch, no Potter. That damn boy is like a disease that Draco can't shake.

It seems only fitting that he claim sickness to get out of playing in favour of spending yet more hours in the Room of Hidden Things only to reach yet another dead end.

Two entire months. Two months and nothing to show for. The necklace was a desperate and ill thought-out back-up plan as it is but every hope he had for the Cabinet has vanished and not returned - which is exactly the problem.

He is running out of ideas and he can't blame his sleep-deprived mind for it anymore.

Draco feels the familiar panic spread through his body at the thought of what the Dark Lord will do should he fail.

However...

What if he is meant to fail? What if the Dark Lord didn't mean to honour his devotion, what if all this is just a scheme to punish his father for the disaster at the Ministry?

Painful realisation hits Draco like the Cruciatus Curse and his knees give out. He slides to the bathroom floor in shock.

The task is meant to be impossible.

Draco and his parents are doomed.

XXX

"Draco? Draco! Are you listening?"

"What?" Draco blinks at Blaise who is sitting nearest to the fire, leaning back in his chair, obviously bored with his essay for McGonagall.

Not that Draco is making much more progress in his constant state of insomnia.

"Slughorn's party. I'm wondering who to bring."

"Take Pansy, she won't shut up about it."

Blaise rolls his eye while Pansy's light up and she turns to the boy with a seductive smile. Or what she calls seductive in her own, special world, Draco muses.

"No, you're no challenge," Blaise deflects with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I don't want someone easy."

"Yes, because you already snogged anyone who was willing," Draco sneers. "My personal favourite was that Hufflepuff fifth year."

"She was a surprisingly talented kisser," Blaise tries - and fails - to save his honour. Hufflepuffs. Really.

"Then why don't you ask her, then?" Pansy dares him, though he doesn't allow himself to be baited.

"She'd think I'm interested. Can't have that."

An idea strikes Draco - the perfect solution to how he can distract his friends from their ever growing worry about him, his dietary habits (or lack thereof), sleeping patterns (or lack thereof) and (deteriorating) grades.

"Why don't you turn it into a bet?" he suggests with a malicious smile. The last time they bet, Pansy had to spend two hours in the Slytherin common room clad only in panties and bra. Even Draco knows she is hot, but she had a lot of inhibitions to overcome before she dared leave of her dorm.

"About what?"

"About seducing someone. A challenge. For both of you. You can finally settle the dispute who has more game, or whatever you call it."

Judging by the spark in both their eyes, Draco has already won them over.

"Alright, what are the ramifications?" Pansy asks, turning towards him.

"Fifth to seventh year. Same house."

"Ravenclaw's out, then," Blaise grumbles, having already tried his luck with every Ravenclaw girl in those years.

"I'm not touching a Hufflepuff!" Pansy shrieks in horror.

"And Slytherins are too easy for fellow Slytherins, which leaves Gryffindor," Draco concludes. Now he only needs a boy and a girl who will present enough of a challenge to keep Blaise and Pansy off his back for long enough.

He allows them two minutes of protesting until they realise on their own that Gryffindor is the only house left to choose from and to settle on what the winner receives - carte blanche. He may dare or command the loser to do anything he or she wants. Which is a huge risk to take with a Slytherin, Draco muses.

"So, who is it then?" Blaise stares at him defiantly.

"Make it good, we want a challenge," Pansy adds, all of a sudden completely on board.

Draco thinks quickly. Lavender is snogging that Weasley, The one of the twins... Too easy. He has no idea who is in seventh or fifth year...Granger. Granger is perfect. Blaise can have a tough time with her and she will never ever give in to a Slytherin.

Pansy's challenge is easier.

"Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom."

"The Mudblood?"

"Bongbottom?!"

"You wanted a challenge."

It takes a while, but eventually both Pansy and Blaise have come around and are devising tactics.

"I'll just go alone," Blaise decides in the end. "I heard that Granger is going with McLaggen to get back at Weasley for not talking to Potter, and she will need rescuing."

Draco snorts. "A Slytherin saving a Gryffindor from another Gryffindor?"

Blaise shrugs. "Stranger things have happened."

That, Draco can but agree to.

XXX

On the twentieth, Draco deems it safe to continue his work without Crabbe and Goyle standing guard (who are inconveniently in detention). Most of the students are at Slughorn's sodding party anyway, and the rest are fantasising about their perfect holiday in their respective common rooms.

It is testimony to how exhausted he truly is that he failed to account for the possibility of Filch being about.

And of course, Snape has to step in and pretend he is a noble friend instead of an ambitious fellow Death Eater.

"Then why not confide in me, and I can -"

"I know what you're up to! You want to steal my glory!"

Snape pauses briefly, drawing a deep breath. "You are speaking like a child. I quite understand that your father's capture and imprisonment has upset you, but -"

Draco has heard enough. Of course the capture upset him but what upsets him even more is that the Dark Lord could have broken Lucius out weeks ago. Instead, he lets him rot.

And Snape... It's all very well for him, he is already the Dark Lord's right hand. He doesn't need to fear punishment or death when he fails.

He strides off, glad that he doesn't hear Snape's footsteps and barges into a bathroom between Slughorn's office and the Slytherin common room where he paces furiously, trying to tame his anger.

It's almost Christmas and he will be away from Hogwarts for two solid weeks during which he can't work on his task. Two weeks of looking his mother in the eye in the knowledge that he is holding her life in his hands. Two weeks of visits to Azkaban.

Draco punches the mirror in a desperate attempt to cool off but all it does is tear his knuckles open which sting viciously.

"Ow, why did you do that?" a voice - a female voice! - startles him.

Draco whips around and sees the ghost of a plump girl with big glasses float through the bathroom. Moaning Myrtle, he figures.

"None of your business."

"Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine." Myrtle just cocks her head and blinks at him. Can't that ghost take a sodding clue?

"You're bleeding. You look sad."

"So what do you care?"

A pause lets Draco hope he has finally chased her off, but no such luck. "I know what it's like. Having no friends."

"I have friends, thank you very much."

"Then why are you here instead of with them?"

Draco growls at her. Crabbe and Goyle are in detention. Draco saw Blaise flirting with Granger and she only looked mildly horrified. Pansy is trying to chat up Longbottom in the library.

"They're busy."

Myrtle huffs as if he has just proven her point. Annoyed, Draco grabs a paper towel to dab the blood away, bins it and flees the bathroom.

XXX

Thanks to being caught early, Draco gets more sleep that night than he probably managed in all of last week and the circles underneath his eyes are a bit less prominent.

He is still one of the first Slytherins at breakfast except for Theo. Blaise strolls in half an hour later with a broad grin on his face.

"I had a very promising evening, contrary to some people," he sneers and launches into his mission report. "McLaggen was indeed appalling and Granger spent most of the night dodging him. I offered to hex him for her so that no one would ever know. She didn't believe I would so I proved it to her-"

"Did he end in the hospital wing?"

"No, he just suffered from a rather embarrassing rash all of a sudden," Zabini explains with a wink. "After that she was still reserved but not as hostile anymore."

Pansy's laugh alerts them to her presence. "Amateur. I bonded with Longbottom over Herbology."

Draco shudders at the thought and allows his thoughts to drift. Knowing Pansy, she will recount the events in minute detail.

An uneasy feeling alerts him to someone watching him. He scans the room as covertly as possible until his eyes land on none other than Potter, who is wearing a thoughtful expression.

Draco doesn't hide the fact that he caught him which doesn't, however, make Potter look away. Instead, he narrows his eyes and considers him with an intense focus as if he is trying to open him up and take his secrets apart with his bare hands.

It makes him feel strangely on edge, though Potter's eyes on him always also have something erotic. More so without the glasses. Why do his eyes have to be so bloody green? And why does that boy be so bloody fit?

Cursing himself, Draco averts his gaze, focussing his attention on Pansy again who is just concluding her story.

Draco can feel Potter's eyes on him for the rest of breakfast.

XXX

Malfoy doesn't leave Harry's mind for the remainder of the day and he is still contemplating what he saw after a comfortable evening with Sirius and Remus who picked him up from King's Cross.

Malfoy has a mission. Snape swore an Unbreakable Vow to help him. But what is it?

It has to be something difficult and dark. Harry hasn't spared Malfoy much attention between lessons, homework and the hours in Dumbledore's office so he can't say for sure when Malfoy started looking so... exhausted.

There were bags under his eyes and he looked thinner than Harry remembers. Something else has changed but Harry can't quite put his finger on it.

Sirius and Remus both doubt that Malfoy has succeeded his father as a Death Eater but they can't deny something fishy is going on.

Harry needs more information.

Well, he has two weeks to figure out exactly how he will find out more...

XXX

Harry finally gathers his courage and texts Nathan on Monday afternoon.

_Glad ur back! Wanna come over? – N_

A rush of arousal washes over Harry and he fumbles eagerly with the keys which results in an excessive use of the backspacing key until he finally produces a readable message.

_Be there in 30. – H_

It has been too long since he last had sex with anyone other than his right hand, Harry notes as he quickly packs his usual "Nathan bag" - a change of clothes, pyjamas just in case, condoms, lube - and is half-hard once he is finished.

Sirius smiles indulgently when Harry asks permission and allows him to go and stay for the night if Nathan offers.

"Do you have condoms?"

"Yes," Harry answers and tries tying his shoes faster to escape further questions.

"Lube?"

"Yes!"

"Change of clothes?"

"Yes, now can you stop?"

Sirius smirks. "Come now, let me enjoy you being back."

Harry blushes faintly and steps forward to hug his godfather. "I'm glad, too."

Affectionately, Sirius ruffles his hair (not that it could get any messier) and shoos him out of the door.

Nathan's house looks just like he remembers it, only with a lot more colourful lights. The overall effect of the decoration is almost nauseating so Harry swallows his nervousness and rings the bell.

Nathan opens three seconds later, wearing black jeans and a tight black jumper which hugs his body in a way that Harry can't wait to tear it off.

Nathan smiles and lets him in. "Finally! I've been half-hard ever since you texted!" As if to prove his point he pushes Harry against the now closed front door and rolls his hips deliciously. Harry can feel Nathan's erection through the layers and his own cock stirs again.

"Your parents?"

"Conference in Glasgow. Until tomorrow afternoon..." He trails off, raising an eyebrow and Harry lifts his bag. "Perfect," Nathan purrs and draws Harry forward, through the kitchen into the main living room.

It is brilliant how easily they fall back into this. Harry can still remember every spot that makes Nathan gasp just as Nathan manages to push all of his buttons.

Nathan's grip in Harry's hair tightens and he pulls his head back abruptly, forcing Harry to bare his throat to him.

Harry hasn't realised how much he missed this; a lithe body pressed against his, the tingling of pain from where Nathan's hand is fisted in his hair, the press of his cock against his hip and one hand sneaking underneath his jumper to play with a nipple.

There is an urgency to all their movements and the foreplay lasts considerably shorter than it used to but Harry doesn't care. They have about 18 hours so the first round may as well be fast and dirty.

Harry throws his jumper to the side, pulling at Nathan's to get it off, too, then starts with his own fly and zipper while Nathan is mirroring him.

As soon as they're naked, Nathan is on him again, hips thrusting forward, rubbing their cocks together and Harry can't help the moan that escapes his throat.

"Lube," Harry gasps, "now!"

Smiling wickedly, Nathan sits back on his heels and grabs Harry's bag. Harry stored the lube where he always does, ensuring they will find it immediately. His plan works and soon, Nathan has two fingers inside him.

Harry throws his head back against the sofa cushion, his hips moving to meet Nathan's thrusts but he can feel his orgasm coming and he wants, he needs Nathan to be inside him this second.

"I'm ready, just come on, fuck me already," he gasps, looking up into Nathan's stormy blue eyes. They darken at his request and within moments Nathan has put on a condom.

"Are you sure you're ready?" Nathan asks when he has positioned himself, one hand on Harry's hip and one on his own cock.

"Yes, come on, I won't last long as it is."

Without further hesitation, Nathan pushes in slowly, inch by inch and Harry can feel every single one of them. He wills his body to relax but it still hurts. Somehow, it makes Harry even harder. His cock is leaking against his abs and he meets Nathan's shallow thrusts, even digs his heels into his lower back.

Once he is fully sheathed, Nathan stills for a moment to catch his breath.

"Bloody hell, you're tight." He is panting, obviously trying to hold himself back but Harry doesn't want any of this.

"Come on!"

Finally, Nathan moves. His thrusts are slow and controlled at first but as soon as Harry digs his nails into his back, Nathan's hips stutter and he pushes into Harry at a painful rhythm that has Harry writhing, gasping and moaning underneath him.

Nathan crashes their lips together in a bruising first kiss of the holiday, then latches onto Harry's throat, sucking and biting, fully aware of how it makes Harry crazy. The next bite hits Harry's shoulder, hard and unrelenting and only takes one more thrust and Harry is gone, crying out as he finds his release without one hand on his cock.

Yes, he should own up to a slight preference for rough sex.

Harry's hands dig in deeper into Nathan's skin and seconds later, his rhythm falters as he comes deep within Harry who kisses him through the aftershocks until Nathan collapses onto the sofa next to him.

Nathan's smile is crooked in his post-orgasmic state, not that Harry believes he looks much different.

"Please tell me your godfather isn't taking you on a week-long holiday," Nathan says when he finally finds his voice again.

Chuckling, Harry rolls onto his side so he can see Nathan better. "No. What about you?"

"Four bloody days in America around New Year's. At least they're gone from Boxing Day till then."

Harry smirks. "I guess we'll have to make the best with what we've got, then."

"Oh, you have no idea what I've got planned..." Nathan leans in closer and meets Harry's lips in another kiss.

XXX

The holiday is over before Harry knows it. He spends a lot of time with Sirius, just talking about his term at Hogwarts, his lessons (he pointedly leaves out the Half Blood Prince's book, though) and Quidditch.

They have been writing letters but there is still so much to tell. Remus sometimes delivers news from the Order, informs them about suspected Death Eater attacks and takes them out for supper more than once.

Christmas Day at Grimmauld Place is a cozy affair with presents, punch, visits from Hermione, Fred and George, owls from Neville and Luna, the greatest meal Kreacher has ever prepared (at least in Harry's memory) and even more presents.

Every free hour Harry can find during those two weeks he spends over at Nathan's. They are constantly experimenting, pushing each other's boundaries as far as they will go, which is not a problem in itself but does lead to a few awkward moments.

For example when Sirius stops Harry's hand as he reaches for the tea after one particularly memorable nights (Nathan bought rope and they have been taking turns).

"Is there a reason for the rope burn on your wrist?" Sirius asks. His voice lacks the usual lightness from when he jokes about the bite marks on Harry's neck.

"Because there was rope around my wrists last night?"

Sirius' eyes narrow. "And that's what you wanted?"

Harry nods, suddenly uneasy. Why is Sirius so different all of a sudden?

His godfather sighs. "Just because your partner wants to try something doesn't mean you have to say yes."

"I know! I wanted to try it, too."

"Despite your history?"

Harry swallows. The thought has occurred to him that, given his personal experience with being restrained in life-threatening situations, he might want to avoid bondage in the bedroom.

The problem is - Harry enjoyed it. And he is not thinking about the deeper meaning of it, or he at least he wasn't until Sirius brought it up.

He meets his godfather's searching gaze, fully aware of the colour rising in his cheeks. "I know, Sirius. I thought I shouldn't but... I liked it. I really did. More than I should have probably. I know this probably means my head is completely screwed up..."

Sirius considers him for a few long seconds before he sighs. "You're not screwed up because you like bondage, Harry. It's alright to like such things. I just don't want you ignoring your own likes and dislikes for Nathan's sake."

"What, after the speech you gave me?" Harry jokes in an attempt to change the subject which Sirius thankfully allows.

"Good to know you're listening. More porridge?"

Smiling, Harry shakes his head and finally pours himself another cup of tea.

XXX

Draco is almost glad to be able to return to Hogwarts. Having had to deal with his worrying mother and frequent visits to Azkaban to see Lucius was hellish; at least when he spends his night in the Room of Hidden Things he is being productive and not uselessly trying to fall asleep in Malfoy Manor.

Narcissa kisses his cheek in good-bye and squeezes his shoulder so tight it would hurt if Draco weren't feeling numb. He blames his insomnia for the lack of feeling he is experiencing - with the notable exception of stupid fantasies of Potter which leave his sheets soiled and himself sweating.

And because his life just wants to beat him down until he can't get up anymore, the first person Draco spots is the Boy Who Bloody Lived. Potter isn't looking his way but turning around to greet that Weasley woman.

That's when he sees it.

The collar of Potter's shirt shifts because he turns to face Mrs Weasley and it exposes a dark bruise on his neck. A bite mark someone left in the heat of passion.

Potter moves and in the last second Draco darts forward, climbing onto the train as to not be caught staring. Because that is what he did, there is no way around it.

Damn. Draco's fantasies have just become even hotter. An experienced Potter under Draco's body, moaning for more?

Draco shakes his head, desperate to find the compartment Blaise is probably already lounging in.

XXX

Harry catches a mop of blond hair before Malfoy disappears into the Hogwarts Express and Harry smirks. He has a plan, inspired by Kreacher's presence on Christmas Day.

As Sirius' godson, he has a right to order Kreacher around as well. And if Kreacher following Draco Malfoy around Hogwarts is his wish, Kreacher has to comply.

XXX

Exactly a week later on Sunday 12th, after Harry spent a lot more time than is probably healthy following Malfoy's dot on the Marauder's Map, Kreacher and to his surprise Dobby appear in the middle of the table Harry and Hermione are using to do their homework. Well, until two house-elves dropped by with a loud 'Crack'.

"What is this?" Hermione asks, confused and a tad irate. "What's going on?"

"Well, they've been following Malfoy for me."

"Night and day," Kreacher croaks and with big, proud eyes, Dobby adds, "Dobby hasn't slept for a week, Harry Potter!"

"You haven't slept, Dobby? But surely, Harry, you didn't-" Hermione begins in the voice she uses whenever lecturing him.

"No, of course I didn't! Dobby, you can sleep, alright? But has either of you found out anything?" he adds before Hermione can plunge into a speech about SPEW...

It only takes a little bit of soothing out Dobby's old habits until the elf speaks the words that lead to Harry's epiphany.

"He has been making regular visits to the seventh floor with a variety of other students, who keep watch for him while he enters-"

"The Room of Requirement!"

Brilliant, absolutely brilliant. Why hasn't Harry thought of the room before whenever he couldn't find Malfoy on the map?

He shrugs mentally, sends Dobby and Kreacher off to sleep and starts pacing next to the table, talking to Hermione (or rather 'at' since she doesn't seem to share his enthusiasm for the news) and bouncing off ideas until he has it all figured out.

Malfoy stole Polyjuice Potion from Slughorn's cauldron and is using Crabbe and Goyle, in the disguise of someone else's bodies, as lookouts while he is executing whatever plan he has forged in the Room of Requirement. Showing those two doofuses the Dark Mark should have be enough to intimidate them into following his orders.

Now the only thing missing, is proof. And Harry knows exactly how to get that.

XXX

Draco's skin tingles as he exits the Room of Requirement on Wednesday.

He has been feeling as if someone is watching him more than once lately, but whenever he looks around - nothing. Crabbe and Goyle haven't seen anyone either.

There always is something familiar about it, though, as if he should know who or what is watching him.

Did Dumbledore figure out what Draco is up to? Has Snape found a new way to spy on him unnoticed?

Only one way to find out.

Draco sneaks around a corner and disappears into an unlocked classroom. He leaves the door ajar enough for a person to peer into the room but not enough for them to actually step through without making noise. He finds himself in one of the Charms classrooms with windows that look out over the lake, giving him a beautiful view over the grounds in the moonlight.

The seconds trickle by while Draco contemplates whether his insomnia is making him paranoid or who else might have a knack for following him to... Of course! Realisation hits him just as the door creaks, identifying an unwelcome presence in the room.

"I thought I told you to keep out of business that is of no concern to you, Potter," he tells the intruder as coldly as he can manage with his pulse rocketing as it always does when Potter is in the vicinity.

Silence. Either Draco is imagining things or Potter is shocked to have been caught. Really. Who does he think he is, a cunning Slytherin?

Draco hears the shuffling of a cloak and the door clicking shut and smirks in triumph.

"I know what you're up to, Malfoy," Potter growls.

Draco turns around, raising an eyebrow. "I doubt that."

Potter rises to the bait, walking up towards him, the cloak Draco saw on the train bundled in his left fist. "You attacked Katie Bell in Hogsmeade - you gave her that necklace! We saw it at Borgin and Burkes."

Draco covers his guilt with a chuckle. "I'm surprised you of all people frequent Knockturn Alley."

"I was following you, you wanker."

"On what grounds?" Draco forces his pulse to calm. Potter in touching distance is rather distracting from the situation at hand, which in turn threads into dangerous waters. How much does Potter really know?

"Madam Malkin's. You jumped across the room when she pinched your arm. Your left arm."

Potter's face is set in an angry scowl, his green eyes shining in the moonlight falling in through the window at Draco's back.

Draco raises an eloquent eyebrow. "So?"

"You know exactly what I mean, Malfoy!" he snarls and Draco laughs as loudly as he dares at this time of night.

"Really, Potter? The Dark Mark? Me? I'm sixteen, Merlin! The Dark Lord doesn't need children."

Potter seems momentarily surprised as if he was expecting Draco to boast about his new tattoo to the Boy Who Lived who would turn him in to Dumbledore before Draco could stun him.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, Potter, I was having a moment with the moon." Draco steps back, careful to keep Potter in sight, as he puts some distance between them.

"Screw you, Malfoy!" Potter swears. "I know you spend most of your time in the Room of Requirement. You bought something from Burkes, you threatened him with Greyback." Potter is in his personal space before Draco can prevent it, gripping him by the collar of his shirt. "What are you up to?!"

Draco saw the attack coming and defends himself as best as he can - not that he has much skill in non-magical duelling. He manages to surprise Potter though, but also to throw both of them off balance with his antics.

They crash onto the ground, Potter arse-first, Draco landing on top of him with enough force to knock the air right out of them both.

Their bodies are touching and Draco's brain immediately derails his train of thought in a completely different direction as he braces himself on his hands. He stares into Potter's eyes for perhaps a second before his eyes dart to the boy's lips, then up again.

To his surprise Potter's eyes don't widen in horror - they dilate.

The decision is hardly conscious; Draco knows he needs to distract the Chosen One or else he will grow even more suspicious of Draco and his actions. Which is his excuse for what he does next.

Draco closes the distance between them and presses their lips together long enough to give Potter time to gasp, whether in shock or surprise doesn't matter, because the second his mouth opens, Draco licks inside, claiming Potter's mouth in a fierce kiss that sparks little fires all along his body when Potter _actually kisses back_.

Draco draws back enough to bite Potter's bottom lips and feels the boy's hips jerk. Intrigued, Draco shuffles a little on top of the Gryffindor until he can press his hips down.

Potter is half-hard, he realises with a start.

Draco opens his eyes to see the boy's face but Potter's eyes are closed against his scrutiny. His cheeks, however, are viciously red.

With an evil chuckle that is more mental than physical, Draco scrapes his teeth along Potter's jaw line and his throat until his tongue reaches Potter's pulse point and he sucks, hard.

Potter arches his back into Draco's body, pressing their groins together. Draco bears down, pinning Potter to the floor and rolls his hips in a steady rhythm that sends sparks through his body.

It might look like any other fantasy Draco has entertained since he first started thinking about sex with Potter but this time, it's real. When Draco touches, he feels the hard muscles underneath Potter's shirt, can feel the Chosen One's strong hands on his sides, holding onto fabric and skin, can feel his cock through too many layers of clothing.

Draco brings his hands to Potter's shirt buttons, opening them with surprisingly steady movements, never once ceasing his administrations to Potter's skin.

Now he can reach his nipples and nothing in the world could have stopped Draco from leaning in an sucking while his left hand is rolling the other one between his fingers and his right hand starts unbuckling Potter's belt.

When Draco bites the nipple, Potter can't hold back a deep moan. Draco raises an eyebrow, more to himself than anyone else, and bites the left nipple which makes Potter arch his back into the touch except pull from away.

Grinning maliciously and feeling his cock twitch inside his pants, Draco finally opens Harry's fly and pushes the trousers down along with the pants. Potter lifts his hips to help and then his cock jumps free, flushed and hard, leaking precome against Potter's incredible abs.

Draco opens his own trousers and sits back enough to be able to push them and his pants down over his arse, bringing out his erection.

When Potter feels Draco's cock brush against his own, his eyes fly open, searching for Draco's. They lock eyes for a second, then Draco wraps his hands around both of their erections, drawing a gasp from Potter. Draco wipes his thumb across the slits, spreading the fluid gathering there to use as lubricant since he is not going to draw a wand on Potter, not even in this state, and moves his hand.

Potter's right hand comes up from Draco's side to tug at his Slytherin tie, pulling him down and Draco allows it, accepts the bruising kiss, all tongue and teeth and incredibly filthy.

Draco varies pressure and rhythm, angle and speed and soon has figured out what rips the most delicious noises from Potter's throat. Draco returns to Potter's chest, this time teasing the collar bone with his teeth, biting down in unpredictable intervals and soon Potter is nothing but a writhing, gasping mess and the hottest thing Draco has ever seen.

He feels a familiar heat gather in his groin but wills himself to wait. He wants to see Potter come completely undone, he wants to be the one to drive him over the edge so Draco buries the nails of his left hand in Potter's side hard enough to draw blood.

Potter cries out, muscles contracting in the moonlight, and then he is coming, hot and fast between their bodies, coating both Draco's hand and his own skin. Potter on his back, panting, with come on his body is a sight that Draco tries to commit to memory before he can't hold back any longer and follows Potter over the edge, adding his own come to the mess on his stomach.

For a few moments they do nothing but catch their breath in the post-orgasmic haze. One it fades, Potter's eyes are still half closed but he is watching Draco, clearly unsure of what he can expect.

Smirking, Draco leans down and licks a path up Potter's incredible body, tasking their mixed releases and the sweat on Potter's skin without ever breaking eye contact. He hears Potter's breath hitch and sees his eyelids flutter at the sight.

Potter's next kiss is rough, demanding and dangerous, holding the promise for so much more but when they inevitably break apart, Draco rises to his feet.

He smiles down at Potter who looks utterly debauched as he lies, half naked, on a random classroom floor, and tugs his shirt back into his trousers, closing the fly.

Then, Draco crosses the room, opens the door and finally breaks eye contact as he leaves the room.

XXX

**End Notes:** The entire story is complete over at AO3 already. I will post the remaining chapters here shortly but if any of you want to read on right away, go to Archive of our own . org - sorry, ffn always messes up the link I put in here! User name is JayEz, same story title. Feel free to comment and say you're from ffn :)


	3. Uncoating

**Summary:** Harry's plans to confront Draco are cleverly thwarted every time. Besides, it's time for the first inter-house cooperation celebration...

**Author's Notes:** Prepare for a looooot of porn. I guess this is the most porn I ever wrote into a single chapter. It's porn with a small side order of plot...Enjoy :)

**Chapter 3 - Uncoating**

_With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride _  
_You're toxic, I'm slipping under _  
_With a taste of a poison paradise _  
_I'm addicted to you, don't you know that you're toxic?_

_- "Toxic", A Static Lullaby_

XXX

Harry jerks into motion when the door clicks shut behind Malfoy. Suddenly he is very aware of the mess covering his torso, of his state of nakedness, of the marks Malfoy's fingernails left.

What the hell just happened?

Harry replays everything in his mind as he hurriedly tries to dress himself again, but he needs three tries to find the right way to button his shirt and whenever he thinks back to Malfoy's body pressing him down his cock twitches again and the last thing Harry needs on his way back to his dorm is an erection.

Harry throws the cloak over his head and leaves the class room without glancing back, navigating the corridors while trying to consider the situation from different angles.

Malfoy is a Slytherin. He kissed Harry when he accused him of being a Death Eater and asked him what he is up to.

Diversion.

The solution presents itself almost on a silver platter. Malfoy felt cornered and he tried to find a way out, which he did. So Malfoy is guilty of something and Harry just needs to keep pushing until he breaks and reveals what he has been hiding.

It sounds like a good plan, Harry fathoms.

He realises its flaw in the bathroom when his eyes fall on the crescent-shaped marks Malfoy's nails left on his skin. The dried blood is visible for what it is and when Harry touches it, the wound still stings a little - enough to send a shiver down his spine and make the blood rush towards his groin.

No. Harry refuses to masturbate to images of Draco bloody Malfoy.

He can't help his thoughts, however. Now that it has proven a valuable option, Harry knows that if he confronts Malfoy again, the blond will only try to slither out of danger by means of sex. Harry has to admit that should it come to that, he won't be able to refuse.

Because tonight? Tonight was the most brilliant sex he ever had.

XXX

When Malfoy enters the Great Hall for breakfast, later than usual, his and Harry's eyes meet for a second before they both glance away.

Harry has no idea what to expect. Is Malfoy going to use this information on him? Or isn't he, since Harry might out him in the process as well which will earn Malfoy more than the sneers of his fellow students?

But Malfoy doesn't act any differently. Other than the brief eye contact at breakfast, Malfoy ignores Harry for the rest of the morning. During DADA, Harry looks at Malfoy whenever he can do so without catching Hermione's attention but none of the times Harry finds Malfoy looking back at him.

It's only during their double Potions lesson when Harry excels - once again thanks to the Half-Blood Prince - that their eyes meet. Malfoy's lips curl the exact same smirk he wore the night before when he left Harry in the class room.

Harry shivers involuntarily.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asks. "Are you cold?"

Harry splutters slightly and he catches Malfoy's chuckle before he shakes his head at his best friend. "No, I'm fine."

XXX

As the day progresses, it only gets worse.

Harry finds Malfoy's grey eyes on him more frequently and the expression in them makes Harry's skin tingle.

Harry actually decided not to follow the Slytherin that night but when Malfoy rises from the Slytherin table after dinner and shoots him a look that dares him to try it again tonight flicks a switch in Harry's brain and as soon as he has finished his homework that night, he hides underneath his cloak and pulls out the Marauders' Map.

Malfoy's dot is mysteriously missing, so Harry makes his way upstairs, passes whom he knows to be Crabbe and Goyle and waits, pondering what exactly Draco might be doing inside the Room or Requirement.

It isn't until much later that Malfoy comes out and dismisses his classmates, his tone arrogant as ever. It is almost curfew but Malfoy doesn't head straight for the dungeons. He wanders the hallways apparently aimlessly, Harry at his heels, hidden underneath the cloak yet he is certain the Slytherin is aware of him following

Harry had enough time while waiting to formulate a strategy. He runs through it again as Malfoy rounds a corner in the torch-lit hallway. He won't touch Malfoy but talk to him instead, demand answers and not let him get to close lest he try something and only after Harry has a piece of information will he-

- a hand suddenly grabs the front of his shirt along with the Invisibility cloak and Harry is so taken by surprise that he can't do anything but stumble sideways into an empty alcove.

Well, empty except for one blond Slytherin who releases his uniform just long enough to lift the Cloak and step underneath it.

"What-" Harry tries but the air in his lungs leaves him as Malfoy pushes him against the hard stone wall. His teeth immediately find the nape of his neck while his hips pin Harry's in place.

Malfoy bites down and a jolt of pleasure courses through Harry's body, intensifying when he realises Malfoy is already hard against his stomach.

Harry tries desperately to keep quiet but it becomes increasingly difficult when there are hands on his fly - Malfoy's hands.

Harry clutches at his shoulders but he doesn't push the boy off. He couldn't if he wanted and Harry's treacherous libido really doesn't want him to push Malfoy away, not when a quick wave of Malfoy's hand opens his shirt and loosens his tie (when did Malfoy learn to use wandless magic?) and he then uses the same hand to expose Harry's already half-hard cock.

Without warning, Malfoy wraps his hand around Harry's erection, altering pressure and thumbing the glans and slit just the way Harry loves while Malfoy's mouth has found his collar bone.

Malfoy sucks and bites, right hand jerking him off, left hand pinning him to the wall at his shoulder. His nails dig deep into Harry's skin at the same moment Malfoy bites his collar bone hard enough to bruise and Harry arches his back, craving more, harder, faster, thrusting his hips to meet Malfoy's administrations.

The blond seems to get the message for he increases the pace, stroking him rougher than he already is without using anything as lubricant and suddenly Harry pictures how it would be if Malfoy fucked Harry against that wall, Harry's back scraping against the stone as the Slytherin ruts into him with the same force he is now fisting his cock. The image is so wrong and at the same time so incredibly right that it goes straight to Harry's cock.

He feels his balls draw him and he mutters something that might have sounded like "I'm close" in warning. Malfoy draws back a little just in time as Harry finds his release between their bodies, drops of come hitting his chest.

Malfoy keeps him pinned to the wall but licks at his collar bone once more where he probably left one hell of a bruise. Then he rolls his hips, drawing Harry's attention to the raging hard-on in Malfoy's pants.

They lock eyes for a moment before Malfoy licks a stripe up from his chest over his throat to his ear, close enough that Harry can feel his breath against his skin.

"You're going to blow me, Potter," Malfoy say - no, commands and Harry's brain decides this is a brilliant idea, making his legs go week.

Then Harry is on his knees in a dark alcove past curfew on a school night with Draco bloody Malfoy of all people. The thought registers but it only serves to make the entire situation even more erotic.

Harry looks up when his hands open Malfoy's fly. The grey eyes are dark, pupils dilated, his lips parted as he gazes down at Harry. His eyes are sharp despite his arousal and suddenly there is a hand in his hair, pulling hard and Harry has to tilt his head back to ease the pain.

Malfoy raises a single eyebrow without saying anything. The message is clear though: Go to town.

Harry swallows as he slips his fingers beneath the waistband of both trousers and pants and pulls them down until they fall to pool around Malfoy's ankles. Harry leans forward and just licks the tip of Malfoy's cock, tasting the bitter precome, eyes still fixed on Malfoy's. His eyelids flutter briefly so Harry shuffles closer, steadies himself with one hand on Malfoy's narrow hip while the other one grips Malfoy's shaft, holding his erection in place as Harry closes his lips around the glans.

He likes blow jobs, he really does. He enjoys finding out exactly what makes Malfoy's breath hitch, what makes him moan in pleasure, what makes him whimper.

Harry's tongue stokes the place where the glans meets the shaft and Malfoy keens before he slaps a hand over his mouth to stifle the sound.

People patrolling the corridors may not be able to see them but the Invisibility Cloak doesn't stifle noises.

Soon, Malfoy is leaning onto the wall behind him, his hands a firm pressure in Harry's hair. Harry glances up and finds Malfoy's eyes tightly shut. He is biting his bottom lip to keep the moans from escaping him but other than that and the colour on his cheeks he looks like he always does.

Harry would smile maliciously if his mouth weren't full of Malfoy's long and heavy cock. He wants nothing more than to shatter that controlled exterior.

So Harry takes Malfoy deeper until he can feel the tip of his cock hit the back of his throat. Relaxing his jaw, Harry guides him deeper still and once Harry's nose hits Malfoy's pubic hair he swallows.

"Bloody hell!" rips from Malfoy's throat before he can stop it. Encouraged, Harry swallows again and this time the blond whimpers above him.

Harry draws back enough to be able to breathe through his nose again, winding his hands around Malfoy's legs and curling his fingers into the skin just underneath his arse. He gently shoves Malfoy forward, glancing up.

Their eye meet and suddenly, Malfoy's gaze turn predatory.

He takes the cue and holds Harry's head in place, giving him a second or to prepare himself before he thrusts into Harry's mouth.

The first few thrusts, Harry can use his tongue on Malfoy, but soon his rhythm increases and he fucks into Harry's mouth without restraint. Harry can't do anything but relax his jaw and hope that he will get enough air between every third or fourth thrust. His hands cup Malfoy's arse which is so incredibly firm that Harry can't wait to get his tongue on the Slytherin right there.

The opportunities to breathe are diminishing and Harry can feel his cock twitch between his legs, spurred into action by the harsh pull of Malfoy's hands in his hair and the ache in his throat.

Malfoy suddenly stills, buried balls deep inside his mouth and Harry swallows, once, twice, and the edges of his vision are getting fuzzy but then Malfoy groans loud enough that the sound fills the entire corridor as he comes down Harry's throat.

The grip in Harry's hair loosens, allowing him to draw back enough to get more air. He licks Malfoy clean while his body still trembles with aftershocks, noting belatedly that he is hard again.

Malfoy is resting against the stone wall, eyes closed, colour high on his cheeks. He is still wearing his uniform from the waist up, but his pale skin visible from the hips down is enticing enough.

Harry knows someone might have heard Malfoy's moan but still he leans back as far as the Cloak allows and just takes in Malfoy's shattered composure and jerks himself hard and fast, desperate to find release.

His breath hitches and suddenly, Malfoy's eyes are open. The next thing Harry knows, the blond is on the floor in front of him, pushing him back until Harry's back is once again against the stone wall.

Malfoy's left hand pulls his hair while the fingers of his right hand stroke across Harry's lips, then push until Harry sucks them into his mouth obediently.

He has an idea of what is to come and the mental image alone almost is enough to send him over the edge.

Malfoy pulls his fingers out and sneaks the hand past Harry's cock and behind his balls. Harry's hips stutter when he feels Malfoy circling his perineum, teasing lightly but not breaching the ring of muscle yet.

Then suddenly, Malfoy's finger enters him, harsh and rough. It burns for a few moments until Harry's body relaxes enough for the experience to be pleasurable.

Soon, Malfoy slides the second finger in and stretches him, his face only inches from his own.

Suddenly, Malfoy crooks his fingers and hits his prostate and Harry would have cried out if it hadn't been for Malfoy's lips sealing his own shut with a hard kiss.

Harry is the one to deepen the kiss, not trusting himself enough to keep quiet. It was a good idea for moments later and way too early, Malfoy works a third finger into him. The pain is blissful and Harry bears down, urging the blond to fuck him faster, harder and Malfoy complies.

This time when Harry comes, he sees stars.

He slumps down, tension leaving his body as he rides the aftershocks out with Malfoy's head resting on his shoulder.

It takes a while before Harry's head is clear enough to remind him that it is after curfew and he needs to go back to Gryffindor tower now.

He is at a loss for words so he clears his throat instead. Malfoy lifts his head, smirks and rises to his feet, pulling his trousers up with him.

Before Harry can zip his fly closed, Malfoy lifts the Cloak and ducks out of the alcove, disappearing around another corner into the dark without looking back.

Harry can't bring his limbs to move.

One slip, he can understand. But two? What was he thinking? He had a plan. Ask questions. Don't give in to distractions.

But as he cleans up the mess with a flick of his wand, Harry knows the truth: He never stood a chance.

XXX

The next day is a Friday, which brings only a few lessons, but a great deal of homework Harry has trouble concentrating on.

So has Hermione, as it would seem. It takes a while for Harry to notice but the witch keeps crossing out sentences in her essays, almost spills her ink twice and - what eventually catches Harry's attention - even crumbles her five inches of the Transfiguration essay due next week.

"Everything alright?"  
"Peachy," Hermione answers curtly, pulling a new roll of parchment from her belongings.

Intrigued, Harry looks around the common room and soon finds the reason for her discomfort: Ron and Lavender Brown are sharing the love seat by the fire and are deeply immersed in eating each other's faces.

"Ignore them," Harry tells Hermione, whose eyes narrow for a moment before she realises that Harry has worked it out. "He's not worth the energy. Besides, I heard from Dean that Lavender has been flirting with Seamus behind Ron's back."

He manages to make his best friend smile and counts it as a victory. "Thanks. But it's not just him, Harry... There's something else that's been bothering me..."

"What?"

She hesitates. "I'll tell you when I've figured it out, is that okay?"

"Of course." Smiling, he adds, "Come on, let's wrap this essay up. Even starting anew you'll be finished before I am."

Hermione chuckles and dips her feather into the ink pot.

XXX

The Gryffindor team is the last ones to practise that evening and the sun has long since set when they begin after dinner so the magical lighting illuminates the pitch instead of natural light.

Harry is glad if not also a little smug to say that Cormac McLaggen has become a valuable member of the team. Harry still has to remind him of who is Captain from time to time, but compared to before he is as well-behaved as a boy with his ego can be.

It's his turn to put the equipment away that night while the others shower and head back to the castle. He has just locked away the balls including the sodding snitch which gave him one hell of a race today, when he hears the shed door open.

Harry doesn't need to turn around to know who it is.

XXX

Draco's hands are shaking when he reaches for the door handle.

He has been... well, obsessed is indeed the right word. He has been obsessed with Potter, with the idea of having him like he did in his fantasies all day. He can't concentrate on his homework. He can concentrate even less on some bloody cabinet in some bloody room.

When the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team got up after dinner, Draco realised that this might be his chance.

Still, he is nervous. He is technically still a virgin - something that Potter must never find out - but he has done the research, practiced the spells and he is as ready as he can get for seducing his arch nemesis in a broom shed on a Friday night.

Potter freezes when he hears someone enter but Draco doubts the Boy Who Lived has any illusions as to who just entered.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" he spits out, yet there is a slight tremor in his voice. Anticipation? It definitely isn't fear.

"I'm sure you can imagine what I want."

Potter spins around, eyes livid with that special brand of energy only Potter possesses. "Sod off! If you're not giving me answers, you won't get anything from me."

Draco advances on Potter who shifts his weight from left to right as if readying himself for fight or flight, but he doesn't draw a wand on him. Which tells Draco that he has already won.

"Don't pretend you don't want me to fuck you, Potter." Green eyes darken before Potter has a chance to school his expression. "You've been thinking about it, haven't you? My cock up your arse while I'm holding you down, giving it to you so hard you black out?"

The muscles in Potter's throat work as he swallows. Draco glances pointedly at the boy's groin.

"You're getting hard already, aren't you? So hot for a shag. I doubt your dorm mates are any help there. When was the last time anyone drove into you so hard you believed you could feel his come in your mouth when it was over? Or was your last shag just not that good? I will never forget the look on your face when you swallowed me down, Potter. You're gagging for it, aren't you?"

Mere inches separate Draco's body from Potters now and he breaks eye contact long enough to glance down where Potter's erection is straining against his Quidditch trousers.

"You kiss your mother with that mouth, Malfoy?" is Potters feebly attempt at snark but it fails spectacularly. His pupils are dilated, eyes dark and he is gripping the shelf behind him for support lest his knees give out, Draco muses.

He doubts Potter realises that he just supplied Draco with the perfect opening.

"No, Potter. Only you."

Then Draco closes the distance, claiming Potter's mouth and pushing him further against the shelf, fully aware of how the wooden edge must be digging into Potter's skin, even through his Quidditch gear.

They kiss, wet and vicious with teeth scraping bottom lips, and Potter tries to get a grip on Draco through his coat but it proves impossible with his gloves.

Potter pulls them off quickly, then pulls him closer, rolling his hips to make their cocks touch through too many layers.

"Pants off," Draco growls, his own hands already unfastening his heavy winter cloak.

Potter hesitates briefly so Draco opens his fly and pushes down his trousers and pants, exposing his hard cock. Potter wets his lips at the sight and the small movement sends a shiver down Draco's spine.

Seconds later, Potter is fumbling with his robes and finally, his pants fall to his feet. Draco is on him immediately, his left arm pinning Potter hard against the shelf.

His right hand is free to perform the necessary spells. It has taken some practise but after going to great length for the cabinet, Draco has found that he has few problems with performing easier magic wandless anymore.

He uses the lubrication spell first. Potter sucks in a surprised breath, which he releases as a heavy moan when he allows himself to feel the sensation.

His eyes are wide and a tad clearer for a moment and Draco can see the question in his eyes.

"With enough practice even you can do them wandlessly, Potter," Draco whispers in his ear. To prove his point he performs the stretching charm and can feel Potter's cock twitch in his hand.

Draco allows himself a few more minutes to press Potter hard against the shelf and mouth at his neck, biting a bruise into the nape of his neck while he wanks Potter hard and fast until the boy is gasping.

Draco releases the hold on him abruptly but is there to catch him until Potter has regained his balance. Then he gives him a shove and Potter falls to his knees before he braces himself on his hands, too.

He tries to commit it to memory forever - Potter on the floor on all fours, naked from the hips down, the scarlet lion visible in the dim light of the broom shed.

Then, Draco is on his knees, drawing his wand to lock the door. On an impulse, Draco rags the tip of his wand across Potter's lower back. He can see the Gryffindor's wand had twitch but Draco makes sure to sooth any suspicions.

"Even I can't perform the protection spells wandlessly, Potter," he whispers in the silence. A flick of his hand, a few muttered words and he pockets the wand again. He rests both of his hands on Potter's arse cheeks, half to show him Draco is unarmed and half to finally get his hands on the boy in front of him.

Draco kneads the flesh for a moment, then digs his fingers in hard enough to turn. It is fascinating to watch how Potter relaxes fractionally despite - or is it because of? - the pain.

"Come on, Malfoy," Potter grits out and he rocks back on his knees.

"Patience is a virtue, Potter," Draco replies evenly though his heart is beating faster than it ever has. He grips his cock to stop his hand from shaking. He has done the research, he has prepared Potter sufficiently. Potter is practically urging him on - there is no reason to be nervous, Draco tells himself.

"Yeah, of Hufflepuff," the boy spits back, arching his back.

Draco snorts. "When I'm through with you tonight, Potter, you won't be able to think, let alone speak. The least of all of Hufflepuffs."

Draco shuffles a fraction closer and positions himself, then takes the hand off his cock when he can feel himself touching Potter's perineum, slick from Draco's spell. He spreads Potter's cheeks apart because he wants to see his cock slide in, he wants to see himself fuck Harry bloody Potter outside of his own fantasies.

He shoves in, inch by inch, can hear Potter's breath hitch and keeps moving until his balls touch Potter's arse.

The sensation is incredible. Potter is tight and hot around his cock, muscles clenching as if trying to make him go deeper and it is pure bliss.

"Bloody move, Malfoy!" Potter thrusts his hips back to urge him on but Draco's hand immediately is in Potter's hair, pulling sharply so that he has to arch his back to ease the pressure. Yet there is no pain in his eyes when Draco meets them, only want and need.

It is the most gorgeous thing Draco has ever seen.

"Pushy, aren't we Potter?" he snarls, shoving his head down and gripping his hips to steady his body. Then, Draco pulls out quickly and just as fast thrusts back in, hard and deep.

Potter meets his thrusts at first but once Draco has found a fierce rhythm, he makes sure that Potter is pinned to the floor with his right hand pressing down between Potter's shoulder blades through his robes. His left hand grips Potter's hip so hard Draco can be sure there will be finger-shaped bruises later.

Too soon for his liking Draco feels the tell-tale signs of orgasm building so he winds the hand from Potter's hip around his cock. It is harder than Draco has ever felt before and twitches when it feels Draco's fingers close around him.

It takes a lot of coordination to time his thrusts with the movement of his hand but eventually, Draco finds an unforgiving rhythm. His right hand wanders up and sneaks under the robes so he can bury his fingernails into Potter's neck, knowing fully well that the additional pain will push the boy over the edge.

Potter comes with a curse on his lips, his muscles clenching and that's it, it's too much. Draco's rhythm falters and he can feel his own orgasm wash through him, punching the air out of his lungs and he has to brace himself on Potter's body to prevent him from falling over ungracefully.

He stays there, hands on Potter's back, breath coming in gasps, for a long time. If the Gryffindor minds, he doesn't complain and by the sound of his breathing, he is in no condition to form coherent thoughts at the moment anyway.

When finally some strength return to his limbs, Draco sits back on his heels, for the first time feeling how cold it really is in the shed.

Potter stirs, rolling onto his back but his eyes are still closed. His hair is messier than usually and wet in places from sweat. Draco can see the scar clearly where it is normally hidden under a mop of hair. But the best is Potter's expression... The most fitting word Draco can come up with to describe it is bliss.

Draco's lips curl into a smile at the sight. He did this. He shagged Potter and put that look on his face.

He knows he should go; get to his feet, pull up his trousers and leave before Potter can ask any questions but Draco just had sex for the very first time and he doesn't want it to be over.

So instead he produces his wand and performs a quick heating charm, then for good measure he conjures a blanket that unfolds underneath their bodies. The sensation of the fabric against Potter's skin startles the boy and he has drawn his wand at a speed that is truly remarkable.

Yet when he sees the blanket with Draco sitting back comfortably and feels the warmth, Potter's eyes darken. He waves his wand, obviously performing some sort of spell but Draco can't see anything happen. He raises a questioning eyebrow.

"No one can hear us now," Potter explains, then proceeds to unlace his boots and strip off his trousers and pants.

Draco mirrors him, noting that his hands are shaking a little in renewed anticipation.

Potter waits until he, too, is naked from the waist down then comes closer, a look in his eyes that borders on predatory and it chases a shiver down Draco's spine that ends up making his cock stir with interest.

Potter's hands stroke the inside of his thighs, inching closer to his groin. The boy simply looks and Draco can feel himself getting hard under the intense focus. Then there is a hand around his cock, stroking unhurriedly while Potter leans forward.

At first, Draco thinks Potter will lick a trail up his shaft again but he doesn't. It's only when Draco feels his tongue touch one of his balls that he connects the dots, hips jerking at the unexpected feeling. Potter's left hand holds him down while his right continues pumping his erection and his tongue... Draco can't describe the sensations.

Until suddenly, Potter's lips are there and he sucks one testicle into his mouth gently, rolls it around, then proceeds with the other after which he pulls both of them in and Draco can but release a guttural moan.

His cock is completely erect now, a drop of precome shining at the tip of his glans.

Potter, however, doesn't swallow him down like he did the day before. Smirking, he moves his limbs until he is straddling Draco, pushes him unto his back, then lifts his hips, his hand never releasing Draco.

Then Potter lowers himself onto his cock and Draco has never seen anything equally erotic in his life, not in his fantasies, not in wizard porn.

Potter pauses when his arse touches Draco's balls, giving them both time to adjust. Draco reaches out to touch Potter's half-hard cock. He wants to see it fully flushed and almost painfully hard, so he leans up a little and sneaks a hand underneath Potter's clothes to pinch a nipple and the boy arches into the touch with a strained whimper.

The next thing he knows, Potter is unbuttoning his uniform, flinging the padding to the side but leaving his shirt open yet on. He leans forward, fingers flying over Draco's buttons, and leans back once he has a clear view of Draco's chest.

For a brief moment Draco believed Potter would try to unveil his Mark and somehow, the thought made his cock twitch. Thankfully that reminded the Boy Who Lived that he is supposed to be riding Draco here.

With a lion's grace, Potter lifts his hips and sinks down again, his eyes fluttering. Draco watches in fascination as the boy fucks himself on Draco's cock, body tense with pleasure.

Draco always wondered how anyone can enjoy being buggered, but the image of Potter writhing and gasping on top of him if proof enough that something must make it worth it.

Well, Draco will make this a shag Potter is unlikely to ever forget.

He experiments with slow thrusts upwards, meeting Potter's movements and soon gains confidence and manages to build a rhythm.

Without breaking it, Draco swings himself into a sitting position, circling his arms around Potter's torso underneath his shirt lest he fall off.

Potter's hands dig into his shoulders for support and Draco forgets every ounce of self-restraint. Potter is tight and hot around him and nothing stops him from taking it, from claiming it. His thrusts become faster, harder, and Potter makes beautiful noises trapped between pain and pleasure, his fingers digging into Draco's skin.

Draco tightens his grip and Potter moans, throwing his head back, gasping cut-off phrases that sound like yes, just like that, Malfoy, harder, yes.

Draco doesn't disappoint. The shed is filled with the filthy sound of skin slapping against skin and every jerk of Draco's hips rubs Potter's cock harder against Draco's abdomen, smearing it with precome.

Potter's body shivers in pleasure and his shirt falls slightly more open, revealing the bite mark Draco left on his collar bone. Without hesitating to think, Draco leans in and bites down hard over the bruise.

Potter cries out form the unexpected pain but his muscles convulse around Draco's cock and then he is coming between their bodies, drops of his release hitting Draco's chest as well as his own. Draco rides him through the aftershocks, rougher and harder than before, finally allowing himself to chase his own orgasm and when he catches up to it, his vision blacks out for several intense seconds.

They collapse against each other, heads resting on the other's shoulder. Draco can feel Potter's breath ghost across his shoulder and he has the sudden urge to bury his face in the crook of Potter's neck, breathing in his musky scent of Quidditch, sweat and uniquely him.

Draco angles his head just a bit and breathes in, allowing him one sentimental moment that night. Potter's hands are still on his shoulders, arms resting against his chest between their bodies.

When Draco's cock is flaccid again, he knows he has to move. He shifts slightly, yet strong enough for Potter to realise his intentions. Instead of getting off him, however, Potter lifts his head from his shoulder, tits Draco's head towards him with gentle fingers and kisses him deeply.

Draco kisses back after a moment of surprise at how soft Potter's lips can be, how light his touch and how sensual his kiss.

Then Potter shifts, causing Draco's cock to slip from his body and they both wince at the feeling. Draco watches as Potter gets dressed and heads for the door but with one hand on the knob, the Chosen One glances back at him one last time before he slips out into the darkness.

XXX

Harry's head is blissfully empty.

His body feels amazing, both from Quidditch as well as from the mind-blowing sex he just had. With Malfoy, of all people.

He showers quickly, not thinking about what happened, not thinking about how he can't wait for the next time, how brilliant it felt to be held down by Malfoy, how different it was from Nathan, how much more intense, how much more... dangerous.

He still isn't thinking when he makes his way up to the castle. A brief look confirms the lights in the sheds are out. Malfoy must already be back in the dungeons, just before curfew.

The Fat Lady is asleep when he reaches the Tower and lets him in begrudgingly. He is so exhausted he wants nothing more than to fall into his bed and sleep for a week.

However, when he passes through the common room, Hermione's head whips around from where she is sitting by the fire. The lack of a book irks Harry a little.

"Harry! Where have you been? I was getting worried!"

"I had to tidy up; took a tad longer than I expected..."

Normally, Hermione would have seen right through the cheap excuse. Now, though, he nods and starts fidgeting. Something is bothering her, Harry can tell.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, what should be wrong?" she asks but her voice is higher than usual and she does sound defensive.

Harry simply shoots her a look.

Hermione sighs heavily and refuses to meet his eyes. "Do you remember Slughorn's party? When I was fleeing from McLaggen?"

Harry nods. "Vividly."

"Well, you went off after Malfoy then, and I was cornered by Blaise."

"Zabini? The Slytherin?"

"Yes. He kept flirting with me and I was rather rude, I have to admit... But he didn't stop. Eventually, he hexed McLaggen, who got a really bad rash and had to go to Madam Pomfrey..."

"Zabini did that for you?"

"Yes... I was a bit friendlier after that... And I think he took it as consent to continue talking to me. Especially in the library when I'm alone."

"Is he molesting you?" Harry steps closer, the urge to protect his friend overriding his exhaustion immediately. "I can -"

"- no! It's... That's the problem, darn it! I kind of... It's nice, talking to him." Hermione flushes from neck to her hair while explaining her predicament. "At first I was annoyed but after I grew tired of chasing him off, he turned out to be really smart. And funny. And I mean, even you have to say he's attractive."

Harry wants to be indignant and point out she is talking about a bloody Slytherin but catches himself before he turns into the biggest hypocrite in Gryffindor Tower.

"I guess..." Hermione doesn't go on, though her hands are still twitching. "So it there any reason you're freaking out tonight?"

Hermione swallows and eventually meets his eyes. "We kissed. He asked me to be his date tomorrow at the inter-house cooperation celebration."

Oh. That is a big deal. McGonagall posted the sign for the new event, IHCC for short, right after the holidays, proclaiming an evening of fun, music and dancing. The students are encouraged to bring a date from a different house. Apparently, the teachers have finally grown tired of the rivalries between Slytherin and the rest of the houses.

"Was it nice? The kiss?" Hermione's blush deepens and it is all the answer Harry needs. "Well, is he being sincere or is he up to something? And do you want to go with him?"

It takes a long moment for Hermione to answer that. "It feels sincere. And yes, Harry, that's the reason I'm freaking out here!"

"This is you freaking out?"

"What did you expect, me pulling my hair out? Stealing ice cream from the kitchens? Anyway," Hermione tries to smile but it turns out to be more of a grimace. "I like spending time with him. I want to say yes. But he's a Slytherin!"

"Isn't the purpose of the entire evening tomorrow to further inter-house cooperation?"

Hermione rolls her eyes. "Now you sound like me."

"Then I must be right."

Hermione sighs and hits him with a pillow. "Thank you, mister, for talking me out of it! So what, I'll just seek him out tomorrow and tell him I'll go?"

Harry chuckles. "I have a theory he will seek you out to get his answer, so don't you worry."

"You serious?" Her eyes are wide and hopeful and Harry knows she isn't only referring to Blaise asking her first.

"Yes. Give it a try, if that's what you want."

"Thank you."

"And don't do it just because you think it will annoy Ron."

At that, Hermione laughs in a rather evil way which, Harry hates to admit, really makes him nervous. When she sees his questioning expression, she smiles.

"He has enough problems of his own. I know for a fact that Lavender has been cheating on him with Seamus. Won't be long until it gets out."

Harry bursts into laughter. The prospect of such a fallout shouldn't be so satisfying but Harry doesn't find it in him to care.

Hermione and he lock eyes and before he knows it, Hermione is hugging him tightly. "Thank you."

"Anytime." And he means it.

XXX

Draco makes it back to the Slytherin common room with only minutes to spare until curfew.

"There you are!" Pansy shrieks and before Draco can reply in one form or another, she barges on. "We need you to clarify the bet! You see, Blaise kissed Granger but she ran off, while I kissed Neville and he didn't. So clearly, that makes me the winner, doesn't it?"

She looks at Draco with wide eyes.

Right. The bet.

"Tonight doesn't settle anything," Draco drawls. "Longbottom has probably never kissed anyone so he'll take whatever he'll get. As for Granger," he glances at Blaise who is standing a little behind Pansy, "I'm surprised you even got her this far."

"So what now?" Pansy demands, sounding way more eager than she probably should, but Draco is in no condition to analyse the reasons behind it.

"If you want to win, seduce your target."

"Seduce?" Pansy's eagerness has somehow morphed into horror.

"Yeah, Pansy, he means sex," Blaise explains sarcastically and rather smug. "I'm in. Or do you want to weasel out?"

Pansy glares. "No."

"Then it's on!" Draco declares, desperate to get out of here, under a shower and into bed.

"Aren't you going to stay and help us devise tactics?" Blaise asks, eyes narrowed.

"I need my beauty sleep, Zabini, you should look into that."

"I don't need it!" Blaise calls after him and lets Draco disappear behind the door to their dorm.

When Draco inspects his body in the bathroom, he gladly notes that only his knees bear marks of the evening that might arouse suspicion.

Looking at the scrapes, though, takes Draco's mind right back to the shed, Potter on all fours in front of him, rocking back to meet his thrusts and before Draco knows it, he is painfully hard again and quickly steps into the shower.

All thoughts of leaving Potter alone after tonight vaporise underneath the hot jet of water.

XXX

There is a vein pulsing in Ron's temple, Harry can see it from where he is sitting a few tables over.

Ron's eyes are fixed on Hermione who is dancing with Zabini, occasionally laughing at something the Slytherin says. Harry hates to admit it but they look good together. Hermione has spent an hour in the bathroom to get ready for tonight, and her hair is shiny and straight like it was in their fourth year.

Perhaps it is the reminder of Viktor Krum that makes Ron especially angry at the new development.

"You miss him, don't you?"

Once again, Luna has a knack for stating the most uncomfortable facts. Maybe Harry should have asked someone else to go to the celebration with him as friends, but then again, Hermione already had a date.

"It doesn't matter."

"You don't think he will come around eventually?"

Harry shakes his head. "I doubt it."

"I'm sorry Harry. I never lost a friend. I can't tell you that I understand."

"It's alright. Do you want to dance?"

It's a risk, Harry knows it. Peeves still loves shouting Potter lurves Loony at the top of his incorporeal lungs. However, everyone important will know the truth.

The moment they reach the dance floor is, of course, also the moment his eyes meet Malfoy's across the crows of students. Apparently the Slytherin came alone though Harry is rather surprised that Malfoy is here at all and didn't spend the time in the Room of Requirement.

Where he does Merlin-knows-what which Harry still is miles away from figuring it out.

Bloody hell, he really needs to learn to keep his hormones under better control.

But whenever Harry's eyes wander around the room, they don't land on Pansy and Neville dancing to a slow rhythm, they don't land on Hermione and Blaise kissing in a corner - they land on Malfoy whose eyes are dark, leaving no room for interpretation of what exactly he is thinking about.

Harry tries to ignore the tingling sensation he feels at the back of his neck when he knows those grey eyes are watching him, though it proves more difficult by every passing minute.

XXX

The celebration is almost over when Ron slaps Seamus so hard the Irish falls to the floor with a broken nose. Harry only witnesses it because he is walking Luna back to her tower and he is at Seamus' side immediately, helping him to his feet with another Slytherin, Theodore Nott.

"Are you completely mental!" Seamus shouts, trying to get out of Harry's and Nott's grip.

"I'm mental? You couldn't take your hands off my girlfriend!" Ron shouts back, still threateningly close.

"Should've done more to keep her happy then, eh?" Seamus smirks and Harry sees Ron raise his fist. He steps in front of Seamus, blocking the blow Ron tried to land by catching his arm in mid-air.

When Ron realises who is touching him, he jumps back.

"Get your hands off me, you pervert!"

"Then stop trying to hurt my friends!" Harry tells him, voice as cold as ice.

Ron holds his gaze a few moments longer, then, with one last glare in Seamus' direction, stalks off.

"Thanks, mate," Seamus says, wiping blood off his face.

"No problem."

Nott is still at Seamus' side, taking a closer look at his nose. "It's a simple break. If you want, I can fix it for you."

Seamus looks up, surprised. "Really?"

"For the sake of inter-house cooperation?" Nott suggests and after Seamus nods, he taps his wand against Seamus' nose which resets itself with a crack. Another tap and the blood is gone.

"You're good at that," Harry comments and is intrigued when Nott blushes.

"I'm clumsy."

"Well, just my luck, eh?" Seamus smiles and is about to say more when Harry hears a girl shriek. It sounds very much like Lavender Brown and a second later, she is throwing her arms around Seamus.

Harry doesn't need to stay for what happens next so he walks back to where Luna is watching. In passing, Harry glances to the doors of the Great Hall and he sees Malfoy saw the entire thing as well.

Malfoy raises an eyebrow, the question evident on his face.

Harry looks to Luna, then back to the Slytherin, and nods, hoping Malfoy will get the message that Harry will come back after escorting Luna home.

XXX

Malfoy gets the message and they shag with Harry's legs around Malfoy's waist, the blond pressing him hard against the wall, thrusting into his body, fast and unrelenting.

XXX

Harry has no idea how he manages to do his homework for the rest of January since his thoughts circle around Malfoy and how good his cock feels inside him, how delicious the marks are that he leaves behind, how Harry doesn't want to conceal them but has to, how he is supposed to survive two hours of Snape's lesson with Malfoy right there in the room with him, too far away to touch.

Malfoy is like a virus, infecting every part of him until Harry can't think about anything else than the Slytherin. Malfoy is dangerous, sex with Malfoy borders on violent and Harry loves every second of it.

They find each other every day, sometimes late at night after Harry follows him when he exits the Room of Requirement, sometimes during a free period in an empty classroom when they have to be real quiet lest someone hears a noise and comes to investigate.

Harry never remembers to ask Malfoy what he is up to.

Malfoy poisons every waking thought Harry has and there is no way Harry will look for the antidote.

XXX

Draco looks at the bite mark on his hip bone in the bathroom mirror.

He knows he needs to heal it, he has Quidditch practise and his team mates will see it in the locker rooms.

Something in him doesn't want to, wants to take the risk, leave the reminder of what Potter and he are doing.

Draco knows it's dangerous, seeking Potter out day after day, allowing him to catch him after he leaves the Room of Hidden Things, allowing him to memorise every inch of Draco's body in the dim lights of Hogwarts.

They don't talk. No words other than y_es, harder, blow me, ride me, fuck, yeah, faster, take me _ever pass their lips but still, Draco learns a lot more than what makes Potter hard in under a minute.

Weasley isn't talking to Potter because Potter told him he likes blokes. Draco was able to infer as much after the first IHCC and Potter knew it, he saw it in his eyes later that night in the light falling into the empty classroom.

"Shut up," Potter said and pushed Draco against a table, kiss bruising and filthily hot before he slid to his knees and opened Draco's trousers.

Draco knows Potter doesn't trust Blaise with Granger by the way Potter's eyes narrow whenever he sees them interact. He watches Granger like a dragon watches its eggs, which is probably why Potter is a lot less suspicious of Pansy's fling with Longbottom.

Even Draco has to admit Pansy's performance of the besotted Slytherin girl is quite convincing.

Draco knows that Potter has nightmares. Once, they fell asleep after three rounds of spectacular sex and Draco woke to Potter's screams. It took him a moment to remember the classroom had been soundproofed, and another moment to figure out that Potter was dreaming of the night the Dark Lord returned.

The memory still sends a shiver down Draco's spine.

Draco knows, but they never talk. He fears the day Potter breaks their silence, the day he demands answers, and threatens to blackmail him or worse.

He just hopes the day will never come and they can continue living in their bubble of blow jobs and bite marks and bruises and shagging until they both die from dehydration.

XXX

The after-party is Blaise and Pansy's idea.

Draco really needs to spend the evening of February 1st working on the Vanishing Cabinet since he has a new idea he needs to try, but instead there are students in the Slytherin common room that aren't members of the house.

Draco doesn't want to know what Pansy and Blaise had to do to convince the teachers to postpone curfew that night and allow the Slytherins to host the IHCC after-party. He really doesn't.

Yet he needs to be there since both Pansy as well as Blaise are planning to make advances on Granger and Longbottom, something Draco "has to see", according to his friends.

Draco needs time to think about his new strategy and what books might help him, but instead he is watching Harry bloody Potter who in turn is watching as his mates play a game of truth or dare. All Potter's classmates are playing, except for Weasley who didn't show and surprised exactly zero people by doing so.

Potter is leaning against a cold cellar wall, laughing at something Granger said which makes her blush. Potter should laugh like that more often, Draco fathoms. It suits him. Well, the lascivious grin he was wearing last night when he suggested they shag without preparation suits him very much as well...

Merlin, the sounds Potter made as Draco drove into his tight arse without stretching, without lubrication... Draco's cock stirs with interest at the mere thought and he quickly pictures something disturbing, like Pansy snogging Longbottom, to will his erection down.

Just then Potter catches his eye and the Chosen One glances down Draco's body and up again, smirking. Like he knows exactly what Draco is thinking about at whom he is kidding, Potter surely does.

Then green eyes dart to the door leading to the dorms and he looks at Draco with a suggestive raise of an eyebrow.

No. Draco is not shagging Potter on his bed in the Slytherin dungeon. No.

Potter excuses himself from the group and heads towards the door which also leads to the bathrooms. Their eyes lock for the split of a second before Potter opens the door and disappears.

Draco groans inwardly. Bloody Potter.

Then he follows.

Potter is on him the second the door shuts behind him, pressing their groins together and Draco can feel that the Gryffindor is as hard as he is himself.

"You're very distracting, Malfoy," he whispers as he kisses up Draco's throat, rolling his hips seductively.

"You're insane."

"Don't believe everything you read in the papers," Potter chides, one hand already at Draco's fly.

"Come," Draco orders instead, grabbing Potters hand and pulling him along until they reach Draco's dorm. Draco guides the boy to his bed and shoves him onto the mattress where he shuffles backwards immediately, making room.

Harry Potter, flushed, erection visible against the fabric of his trousers, sprawled across his bed is not something Draco ever thought he'd see.

"We need to hurry," Potter gasps when Draco climbs onto the bed, covering Potter's body with his own. He can feel the muscles through too many layers as Potter arches his back to bring their groins together.

"Don't worry," Draco drawls, biting the nape of Potter's neck. "I want to try something."

Potter lifts his head and watches with wide eyes as Draco glides down his body, stops at the fly of his trousers and opens it swiftly. Draco's hands aren't shaking anymore. He is about to try this for the very first time but he has grown confident over the past weeks. He knows what Potter likes.

"Malfoy, are you-"

"Yeah, now shut up and enjoy." With that, Draco sets Potter's cock free and dives right in.

The taste is not unpleasant at all but simply Potter, so Draco keeps going, moving his lips up and down Potter's shaft, his tongue massaging the glans.

When he tongues the slit Potter starts cursing, jerking his hips upward but Draco's hands stop him. Experimentally, Draco sucks one of the balls into his mouth which causes Potter to moan so Draco repeats it with the other one, then licks up the shaft and wraps his lips around Potter's glans again. He digs his nails into Potter's skin, drawing a shout form the boy and soon there is a hand in Draco's hair, pulling in warning.

Draco stays where he is, redoubling his efforts until, with a low moan, Potter comes in his mouth. Draco manages to catch most of it, just a little dribbles down his chin.

Potter tugs him up and just looks at him with still-dilated pupils. He sees the fluid on Draco's chin and cleans it with his tongue, then licks into Draco's mouth while turning them around.

Potter retrieves his wand and does the spells, then pulls Draco's trousers and pants down and, without warning, lowers himself onto Draco's cock. It's a sign how well they know each other that a few intense minutes of the Gryffindor riding him make Draco's balls draw up.

Draco sits up abruptly and pulls Potter down into a crushing kiss as he feels release wash through him. Potter rides him through the aftershocks, his mouth never leaving Draco's.

Potter untangles their limbs and collapses next to Draco on the mattress. Draco can see a twisted sort of fondness in Potter's eyes that he doesn't dare to investigate.

"A bed really makes this easier," Potter comments with a smile.

"I don't know, I'm rather fond of alcoves..."

Potter slaps his shoulder playfully, then reaches down to tuck himself in again.

"I should get back."

Draco nods. "I'll stay here a while longer, otherwise they might get suspicious."

"Of us shagging?" Potter snorts derisively and something contracts painfully in Draco's chest as he watches the Gryffindor disappear through the door.

Exactly. Because no one would believe that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are shagging.

XXX

**End Notes:** Thanks for all the people who are following this story already, it's very much appreciated :) I guess I'll try to post two chapters per day which means the whole story will be posted by Monday night.

Let me know what you think! Concrit is always appreciated :)


	4. Replication

**Summary:** Draco feels hurt and that just won't do. He can't have feelings so he decides to stop his... fling with Potter. If only that were so easy.

Chapter 4 - Replication

_It's getting late _  
_To give you up _  
_I took a sip from my devil's cup _  
_Slowly, it's taking over me_

_- "Toxic", A Static Lullaby_

XXX

Harry checks his reflection in the bathroom mirror before he rejoins the party.

He can't keep the smile off his face and just hopes that Hermione is too distracted to notice anything.

He comes back to find the game no longer in play; instead Hermione and Blaise are snogging on an armchair while Pansy and Neville are mirroring them on the sofa by the fire.

Harry flops down next to Seamus, Dean and Nott.

"Harry, say yes."

"To what?" It looks as if Nott and Seamus are having quite the animated discussion.

"Can we just drop it?" Dean looks exasperated.

"No!" both Nott and Seamus shout at the same time, then start arguing again.

"I'm talking about something primal -" the Slytherin begins, only to be interrupted by Seamus.

"Humanity has evolved beyond savagery, mate -"

"What's this about?" Harry cuts in, thoroughly worried.

"It's stupid!" Dean asserts, only to bring the wrath of both the other boys on him.

"It's a valid question!"

"What is?!" Harry asks a tad louder than perhaps strictly necessary.

Seamus considers him for a moment, then huffs. "Look, if cavemen and astronauts got into a fight, who would win?"

Harry blinks at him.

"Told you, it's stupid!" Dean repeats.

"Harry grew up with Muggles, he'll understand!" Seamus insists.

"They've been discussing this for fifteen minutes!" Dean groans and looks to Harry expectantly.

Harry narrows his eyes at Seamus and Nott. "Do the astronauts have weapons?"

"No!" both shout in unison, causing the group of girls, amongst whom Harry sees Lavender, to look over.

Harry, Seamus and Nott spend the following twenty minutes discussing the advantages and disadvantages of astronauts and cavemen, only to reach absolutely no results when curfew eventually draws near.

"This discussion is not over!" Seamus threatens Nott - who Harry is to call Theo, so he should probably start to do so in his mind as well.

"Please, cavemen clearly win."

"I can't believe this bloke! Next thing you know is he'll praise the Nintendo 64!"

Harry bursts into laughter, having heard Dudley talk incessantly about wanting to pre-order the new gaming console.

"You play?" Theo asks, but Harry shakes his head.

"My cousin. I was never allowed to." he pauses, then decides to finally find out what has been irking him. "But how do you know so much about Muggle video games anyway?"

Theo shifts, clearly uncomfortable. "A friend of mine. He's a Muggle. He taught me to play."

Harry nods, trying to find out what else he knows about Theo, other than that his father is one of Lord Voldemort's Death Eaters. Apparently, Theo doesn't follow in his father's footsteps.

Suddenly, a bell chimes and everyone looks around to see Millicent Bulstrode standing in the middle of the common room.

"It's almost curfew, so those of you who don't want to get into trouble better get back to their dorms. And just to make that clear - everyone who isn't a Slytherin has to leave," she adds with a pointed look towards the two couples still snogging by the fire.

Harry rises and goes over there to tap Hermione on the shoulder, resigning himself to a walk back to Gryffindor tower which will be spent listening to Hermione gush about Blaise.

He scans the room for any sign of Malfoy to say good-bye but the Slytherin must have fallen asleep.

XXX

The first day after the party, Harry can't find Draco anywhere. He waits in front of the Room of Requirement but even an hour after curfew ended, no one shows.

Frustrated, Harry returns to his dorm, desperately trying to come up with an explanation why Draco didn't seek him out tonight.

Bloody hell, did Harry just call him Draco?

Well, after weeks of shagging each other, Harry figures using his first name might not be a bad idea.

Still, what is going on? Did something happen? Did Harry say something wrong? He goes over their conversation but comes up with nothing.

XXX

He sleeps uneasy that night and come Monday, Harry is set on finding Draco and giving him a reason to keep this thing up, whatever it is between them.

He wonders if this is how addicts feel, constantly thinking about that one solution to stop the itching underneath his skin, the burning want inside him.

Harry eyes the Slytherin table where Malfoy is eating lunch with Blaise, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle, and the moment Draco rises, Harry excuses himself, following the blond out of the Hall and throwing his Cloak over his head.

He catches Draco in the dungeons where he drags him into an unused classroom.

"What the hell-"

"Where were you yesterday?" Harry asks, successfully pinning Draco to the wall. Harry might be the submissive one so far, but he is stronger than Draco in terms of force.

Draco snorts. "My world doesn't resolve around you, Potter."

"I know that-"

"Do you? Because I was simply busy; not everyone can bribe Granger to do your homework for you."

"Hermione doesn't-" Harry starts but stops mid-thought. "It doesn't matter. We're alone now."

"I have an essay to finish," Draco protests, but Harry can feel his pulse quicken underneath his hand.

"It can wait ten minutes."

With that, Harry falls to his knees, almost rips Draco's robes open until he can free Draco's cock and proceeds to lick and massage it to fullness. Once Draco is erect, Harry swallows him down in one go, relaxing his throat to ease the entry.

Harry looks up to meet Draco's wide eyes, then pulls off almost all of the way. He tongues the slit and glans, licks up and down the shaft, showing off to Draco who is still watching though his eyelids flutter.

When Harry deep-throats again, Draco's hips start thrusting and soon, Draco's hands cup his face, holding it in place while he fucks Harry's mouth so hard that Harry chokes around his length and the edges of his vision grow fussy.

Draco surely notices but he doesn't seem to care, just keeps on thrusting until he comes with a stifled moan and pulls out abruptly, flooding Harry's lungs with air.

Suddenly, Harry is the one pressed against the wall, one of Draco's arms across his chest, holding him in place and restricting his oxygen again while the other fumbles with his trousers.

Harry struggles a little but only for the thrill of it. He knows he could get free if he really wanted to.

Then, Draco's long fingers wrap around his cock and work him fast and dirty. Draco isn't taking his time, his aim is to get Harry off as fast as he can. He presses one knee hard enough into Harry's thigh that it hurts and leans in to bite the nape of his neck harder than he ever has.

Harry comes with an intensity that makes him see stars and he would have shouted if not for Draco's lips on his, absorbing the sound in a ruthless kiss.

All of a sudden, Draco's mouth is gone as well as the arm across his chest and Harry falls, ungracefully, to the floor.

He catches his breath a bit before he glances up, meeting grey eyes that betray a hint of worry after the rough treatment. So Harry smiles, Draco nods, and leaves him in the classroom.

Harry feels something dribble down his collar bone and when he reaches up to touch it, his fingers come away bloody.

Draco must have bit him harder than Harry thought.

XXX

Draco wants to curse himself. Crucio would be appropriate, physical agony used to condition him out of his stupid obsession.

Hurt. He felt hurt after Potter mocked the idea of them like that and there is no space for emotion in Draco's life at the moment.

So Draco decided to stop, stay with the Cabinet as long as it takes until Potter left and not pay him any attention the following days until the boy understands.

Potter being Potter however, the git had to seek him out. And nobody could withstand Potter on his knees, begging with big eyes to be claimed, to be used, for long.

Things don't go back to normal, though - they become worse.

Instead of seeking each other out once a day, it's twice now, three times that weekend, whenever they can steal away from friends unnoticed.

Draco is resolved to blight any other emotion the moment he discovers it. He doesn't watch Potter sleep. He doesn't watch Potter laugh at the Gryffindor table across the Great Hall. He doesn't smile when Potter earns points in potions.

He doesn't. Really.

XXX

Harry starts an experiment after the second weekend in February. He belatedly realised that Draco never is completely undressed whenever they have sex and somehow, that is the fact that reminds Harry of his original intentions of cornering Draco, finding out if he is indeed a Death Eater and what he is up to in the Room of Requirement.

So over the next few days, he tries to get Draco undressed, tugs at his shirt, but Draco always deflects the movement and distracts Harry, remaining clothed.

_Time for different tactics,_ Harry thinks to himself and tails the Slytherin from supper in the Great Hall up to the seventh floor underneath the cover of the Invisibility Cloak.

Crabbe and Goyle are disguised as bookish Ravenclaw girls (girls!) and once they are in position, Draco walks up and down in front of the wall three times before a door appears.

Harry is ready, ambushing Draco the moment he opens the door, pushing both of them inside the room.

Harry had no idea if his plan would work and is amazed when he finds that it did. He looks around the room which is filled form floor to ceiling with things students have probably hidden in here for over several decades.

Draco is staring at him, paler than ever, eyes open in shock.

"Sod off, Potter!" he snarls but Harry has got this far, he will not be thwarted by an angry Malfoy.

"No, I won't."

Draco shrugs. "Then I'm off." He darts forward, trying to get past Harry but he blocks Draco's path and, spinning them around, pins the blond to the stone wall next to the door.

"I need answers."

"I'm not giving you any!" Draco shouts, squirming in Harry's grasp. Another time this might have been highly erotic, but Harry is too focused to retrieve his wand with one hand while trapping Draco with the other to really notice.

When he sees the wand, Draco swallows. "What are you going to do, Potter? Curse me? I won't tell you anything."

"I don't need you to talk," Harry simply answers, flicking his wand and performs the non-verbal incantation he practised for hours yesterday.

It works. Draco's robes come off in the blink of an eye.

Draco is topless, only wearing his trousers and shoes. He is gripping Harry's hand that is holding him down, angling his left forearm away from Harry's line of sight so Harry yanks Draco's arm up, pinning his wrist to the wall still holding his wand.

Draco freezes as Harry's eyes travel over dark, black lines on pale skin.

A skull with a snake protruding from its mouth.

Harry was right. Draco is a Death Eater.

"Congratulations, Potter. Now you know. What are you going to do about it?" Draco spits at him, struggling in Harry's hold but Harry can tell the boy is trembling. He is afraid, Harry realises.

What is Harry going to do now? Tell Dumbledore? Dumbledore, who has left the castle and still isn't back? Tell McGonagall? And explain that he knows about the Mark how, exactly?

"I'm not sure yet."

Draco splutters, clearly expecting to be dragged in front of the headmaster immediately.

Harry's eyes are fixed on the Dark Mark, standing out starkly against Draco's skin. Draco, a sixteen-year-old boy followed his father's footsteps into Voldemort's inner circle and now has a mission to fulfil - but what is this mission?

Harry knows Draco won't reveal it now. But the way the Slytherin is trembling tells Harry enough about how willingly he plays his role. This is more complicated than Harry initially thought.

"Why did Voldemort allow a teenager into his inner circle?" he asks, ignoring Draco's flinch at the sound of the name. "What does he want you to do?"

Harry tries to tear his eyes away from the Mark but he can't stop them from darting back to the tattoo every few seconds.

Draco merely chuckles. "Ask all you want Potter. I'm not talking." The he follows Harry's gaze and suddenly, his expression morphs into a smirk.

"It's distracting you. Does it turn you on?"

Harry's breath hitches as Draco uses his position to roll his hips against Harry's.

"Oh, sure it does, Potter. You've been shagging a Death Eater after all. How does that feel? Knowing you put your life at risk whenever you dropped to your knees in front of me? Only now finding out that I could have had orders to kill you all along?"

Harry shudders at Draco's words, desperate to reign in his body's reactions but the sense of danger, of Draco, of the wrongness of it all causes his blood to rush towards his groin.

Draco's smirk broadens and he builds a rhythm with his hips once he feels Harry getting hard.

Harry is desperate to find some kind of control, now that he is aware of the threat Draco might pose, so he shifts his arms, bringing Draco's wrists together over his head and pins them to the wall using his wand hand while his left touches Draco's half-hard cock through his trousers.

"What about you, Draco?" he whispers in the boy's ear. "I could kill you, too, you know."

Harry feels Draco swallow as he kisses Draco's throat, massaging his growing erection through the fabric.

"You're no killer, Potter. You showed that at the end of fourth year."

"You're no killer either," Harry answers evenly, filing away the information that Draco knows about what happened at the grave yard for later.

Draco releases a shaky breath, hips jerking to meet Harry's hand.

"You have no idea what I'm capable of."

"No. But if you wanted to kill me, you had enough chances, so let's drop the pretence."

"Then let go of my sodding hands so I can shag you the way you like it." Draco glares at Harry but it doesn't distract from the needy tone his voice carries.

Harry kisses him then, deep and passionate, releasing his wrists from his grip and Draco's arms immediately circle his body and pull him close.

Their kiss soon turns desperate, filthy, bruising and then Draco pushes him off.

"I'm sure there is a bed in here," the Slytherin tells him and goes off, Harry following but only after he picked up Draco's robes from the floor.

He finds Draco in front of a comfortable looking bed big enough for both of them.

"It looks new," Harry comments and Draco merely shrugs.

"This Room is full of surprises. I wouldn't be surprised if it brought us milk and cookies next."

Harry barks out a laugh at that but soon sobers up when he finally has a good view of Draco's upper body.

He is slim, almost too slim but Harry blames hours spent inside this room doing Merlin-knows-what instead of getting a good night's sleep and a decent meal.

His pale skin seems to glow in the light of the torches that illuminate the room and Harry wants to taste it, lick it, explore every inch of Draco's body now that he finally can.

He sheds his robes and throws them to the floor, then comes to a halt in front of Draco. He extends a hand to touch his chest and runs his fingers down Draco's shoulder and arm, not hesitating when his touch ghosts across the Mark and then he runs them up again across Draco's chest, brushing the nipples. He ends with a few touches across Draco's stomach and can feel the muscles underneath the skin contract at his touch.

Draco positively growls and whirls them around so that Harry's back is to the bed. Before he loses his balance, Harry feels Draco's arms around him once again and Draco's lips on his own.

For the first time, skin touches skin as their bodies crash together and it is so much better than always fumbling with clothing that Harry wants to stay naked with Draco forever.

Except there are still trousers in the way.

Harry's hands travel down towards his belt and make quick work of it until he lets his pants drop to the floor. Draco gives him room to toe off his shoes and step out of his clothes while he opens his own fly.

And then both of them are completely naked, breath ragged, staring at each other.

Harry is the first to move, pulling Draco towards the bed with him. Harry sits down on the mattress and lies back, tugging at Draco's hand so the Slytherin climbs over him.

Draco is straddling Harry's hips and their cocks touch, sensitive skin against sensitive skin.

Suddenly, Draco's hand is in his hair, pulling his head back so that Harry bears his throat which Draco quickly attacks with his mouth, sucking and biting until Harry is writhing underneath him, enjoying that for the first time, no clothing items are in the way.

Draco's breath ghosts across Harry's cheeks and he can feel Draco's lips near his ear.

"How much preparation do you want tonight?"

Instead of answering, Harry stretches his hand until he grasps his wand and flicks it once, leaving Draco guessing which one of the spells he chose.

The blond slides down gracefully and hovers over Harry's groin. He licks the drop of precome off that has gathered at the tip, then takes Harry's cock in his mouth and works him slowly while his hands dip behind Harry's balls to see for himself.

Draco moans when he feels Harry slick but unstretched and in a rush, Draco pulls off Harry who whines at the loss of the tight heat of Draco's mouth.

Draco's hands grip Harry's ankles next and put them onto his shoulders, positioning himself simultaneously.

Draco doesn't need to ask if Harry wants him to go slow, to ease into his body, they know each other too well to excuse such questions.

With one hard, unforgiving thrust, Draco breaches his hole and doesn't stop until he is balls-deep inside of him.

Harry doesn't hold back his strained cry but his brain is already transforming the pain into pleasure in that twisted way it always does, so it doesn't take long until Harry wriggles his arse to get Draco to bloody move already.

Draco does, slow but hard, taking his time to attack Harry's chest and abdomen with his teeth. He sucks a bruise on Harry's right pectoral, just above his rapidly beating hard, then bites his way down as far as he can reach, licking across Harry's abs and up again to bite hard into Harry's shoulder.

Harry's shout turns into a moan as feels a few drops of blood trickle out of the wound but Draco ignores them with a glint in his eyes as he increases his rhythm.

Harry remembers his hands and he reaches out to cup Draco's arse, thrilled to feel the firmness of the flesh underneath his fingers. He can't resist burying his fingernails deep in the pale skin there, knowing if not actually seeing that he will leave behind marks of his own.

Draco kisses him again and Harry rakes his nails up Draco's back, thrilled to feel the boy's breath hitch and his hips lose their rhythm briefly.

Harry can feel the strain in his muscles by now, a delicious new addition to the pain in his arse and shoulder and he tries pushing back, meeting Draco's thrusts. Encouraged, Draco shifts, setting a brutal rhythm and then, finally, allows his cock to hit Harry's prostate, drawing a moan from his throat.

Draco doesn't relent but keeps up his pace and the angle, thrusting into Harry and against his prostate every time while he bites down on the bruise he already left on Harry's shoulder.

The sensations are too much, too much pleasure, too much pain and before Harry can process anything, he comes in long spurts between their bodies. Draco tilts his head to lick up the stripes that hit Harry's chest as he rides Harry through the aftershocks only to then drive into him with brute force, chasing his own orgasm.

Draco comes so hard Harry can feel his release deep inside of him.

The Slytherin stays still for a long time, catching his breath before he pulls out tentatively. Harry feels empty at the loss but then Draco collapses half on top of him, half at his side, left arm sprawled possessively across Harry's chest.

They don't talk. Instead, they breathe in an attempt to calm their heart beats and drift into a deep sleep.

XXX

Harry wakes in the middle of the night, comfortably warm due to the body sharing the bed with him. Draco is still half-draped across his chest and Harry considers him for a long time as he sleeps peacefully.

Harry can tell by the dark circles still under Draco's eyes every day that he doesn't sleep nearly enough, which is why he is reluctant to move and wake the blond in the process.

In the end, his body makes the decision for him, pulling him back into a dreamless sleep.

XXX

Friday is Valentine's Day.

By the time the afternoon lessons begin, Draco wants to curse every cheerful student, every snogging couple and everyone carrying or receiving a singing Valentine.

At least it is Friday, which means he can lock himself away all evening and work on the Cabinet without fretting over homework due the next day. And on Saturday, everyone will be at Hogsmeade, not thinking about Draco Malfoy.

Or of Harry. Of Potter. Or of Potter, bloody hell!

Draco noticed last night that the Gryffindor has started using Draco's first name, apparently it was a slip of tongue, suggesting Harry doesn't think of him as Malfoy anymore.

Damn it, Draco did it again...

How much time has Draco spent worrying about what would happen if Harry ever saw the Dark Mark? Never did it occur to him that it might not end with him in Dumbledore's office in a matter of minutes.

No, the Boy Who Lived has to defy the odds and kiss him breathless, not only stripping Draco of all his clothes but also of his last defences surrounding his feelings.

He misses the times when Harry was nothing more than an idea, the one that got away, the one Draco wanted to catch, shag and then leave, resolving the issues between them and going his merry way.

Now, Harry is the boy he woke up next to, the boy who proved that morning sex is a brilliant idea, the boy who knows one of his darkest secrets and didn't run off, didn't turn him over to Dumbledore or heck, even McGonagall. True, it might need a bit of clever explaining how exactly Harry caught a glimpse of his Mark, but Draco wouldn't put that behind the Gryffindor who walked into the Ministry of Magic and survived an encounter with the Dark Lord.

Draco is in trouble if he doesn't find a way to get rid of all these ugly emotions tripping over each other inside his chest. He wishes he could talk to one of his friends but they are busy making doe-eyes at other Gryffindors and Crabbe and Goyle will never understand what Draco might be willing to tell them.

Instead, Draco spends afternoon and evening inside the Room of Hidden Things, becoming more and more frustrated as his theory once again proves to be impossible to realise.

It is late at night when he finds he has no capacity for thought left and abandons the Cabinet.

Outside, he almost literally runs into Harry who was apparently waiting for him.

"Draco-" he begins but Draco silences him with a kiss, pulling Harry with him as he walks back towards the Room of Requirement.

Draco releases Harry when he feels a doorknob behind him and ignores how his heart beats faster when he sees the smile on Harry's face.

"As much as you like the alcove," Harry teases, "an argument can be made for a comfortable bed."

Draco doesn't trust his voice to answer, so he simply opens the door and proceeds into the room.

XXX

Harry could get used to waking up to incredibly morning sex, he muses during dinner on Saturday. They only have to take care that no one notices their absence in their respective dorms.

"How was your night?" Hermione asks all of a sudden. They are one of the view students already at dinner; most of their classmates are still in Hogsmeade.

"Alright, I guess... Why?" Harry was content with Hermione spending the past twenty minutes telling him everything about her date with Blaise in Hogsmeade, how very brilliant the Slytherin is, how great he can kiss... Instead of asking about his day.

"You're smiling."

"So?"

"Without apparent reason."

"So?"

"It's odd."

"Can't a bloke simply have slept really well?"

Hermione narrows her eyes but shrugs, letting the subject go.

A shriek makes every one of the few students in the Great Hall flinch and Harry is on his feet and that the door, wand at the ready, in a matter of seconds.

When he reaches the Entrance Hall, Lavender Brown is still shrieking, her face contorted in an angry grimace. The focus of her fury is, apparently, Seamus, who hurries after her.

"Lav, I can explain!"

"How the bloody fuck can you explain that!" the girl shouts, changing direction and stalking towards Seamus who backs away instinctively.

Harry relaxes only a fraction. Someone might still get hurt.

That is the moment Theo tentatively enters the castle from the same direction the couple just came. Lavender spots him immediately and points at him with a cry. The entire Great Hall has gathered behind Harry, watching as the scene unfolds

"You! What did you do, you dirty little snake!"

"He didn't do anything-" Seamus tries to explain but Lavender is having none of that.

"Of course he did! Why else would you do that! He took you from me, that bloody little shit!"

With that, she leaps towards Theo who seems genuinely terrified and Harry just barely manages to catch Lavender around her waist before she scratches his eyes out with her fingernails.

"Let me go, Harry!" Lavender shrieks and Harry is incredibly thankful for the additional workout he gets thanks to Draco for Harry doubts he would have had the strength to keep her away from Theo otherwise.

Harry glances helplessly at Hermione, at a complete loss what to do with the girl now that he has her secured.

Hermione is in front of them immediately, gently but firmly catching Lavenders flying wrists in her hands.

"Lavender, calm down! I'm sure there is an explanation for whatever happened."

The girl thrashes and struggles but after a few more soothing words, she eventually calms down.

Harry is just really glad that none of the teachers are at dinner at the moment.

"Now, why don't we take this somewhere more private?" Hermione suggests with a glance at the crowd still watching. Harry notes that Seamus and Theo have drifted closer together in the minutes it took to subdue Lavender.

"No! I don't care, he can say whatever he has to say openly!" Lavender glares at Seamus who twitches as if planning to flee.

Hermione sighs. "Alright, what happened?"

"We had the best Valentine's Day, Seamus and me, and today I catch him snogging Nott behind my back!" the girl shrieks and Harry darts a surprised but equally amused look in Seamus' direction.

Seamus winks at Harry before he turns towards Hermione, who is fixing him with a stern gaze, clearly asking whether it is true or not.

"I can't deny that," Seamus admits, causing Lavender to launch another attack, yet Harry catches her in time.

"So you cheated on your girlfriend?" Hermione raises an eyebrow. She really looks intimidating, in full Prefect mode, Harry muses.

"Yes." Seamus says meekly.

"You tosser!" Lavender shrieks, fighting against Harry's grip. "How did you do it, Nott? Was it a love spell?"

Theo tries feebly to make himself blend in with the background but Seamus becomes angry enough for the both of them.

"Love spell?! He doesn't need a sodding love spell!"

"Then why did you snog him!"

"Because he's way nicer than you!"

That brings Lavender up short. Then she explodes. "You arsehole! How could I ever date a poofter like you! Don't you dare ever getting near me again!"

With one last glare at the two boys, and Harry, as if he is somehow involved in this, the girl stalks off.

Hermione slaps Seamus on the back of his head.

"Ouch! What was that for, Mione?"

"For cheating instead of just being frank with your bloody girlfriend."

Seamus actually looks rueful. "Yeah, it was cowardly of me, I get it. I'm sorry."

"You better be," Hermione tells him, then tugs Harry aside. "I'll go comfort her, alright? I doubt Parvati and Padma are back yet."

Harry watches her go until a hand pats his shoulder.

"Thanks, mate. You're a great bodyguard."

Harry laughs. "No problem."

Seamus smiles back, then extends a hand to Theo in front of the mass of curious students.

"Come on, I know a place where it is a lot quieter."

Tentatively, Theo takes the proffered hand and follows Seamus up the stairs, leaving Harry with the lovely task of ushering the herd of students back into the Great Hall.

Somehow, though, he can't hide his smile.

XXX

When Harry returns to the common room after supper, Hermione is already at a table doing homework since apparently, Parvati and Padma are a lot more suited to take care of a scorned girl like Lavender.

They settle into a comfortable silence, Harry trying to finish his work quickly and excuse himself to bed in a few hours so he can sneak out underneath his Cloak again to look for Draco.

Seamus returns looking blissfully snogged out and mumbles something about a shower before he disappears.

Harry is immersed in his Transfigurations essay that he only glimpses Ron's return in passing, nor the sound of the portrait winging open a few minutes later. What does grab his attention, however, is the noise of feet stomping down the stairs from the dorms.

Hermione's and Harry's heads whip up along with those of a few fellow Gryffindors. The one making all the noise is Ron, anger high in his face, Seamus at his heels.

"- and now you're bloody one of them! Another poof, unbelievable! How could you string Lavender along if you were just planning on sticking your prick up Nott's arse all along?!"

"What makes you think it's not the other way around, Ronald?" Seamus snarls. "What if Theo's the one buggering me, eh?"

Ron turns an even deeper shade of scarlet and Harry can't contain his laughter at Seamus' blunt comment. Even Hermione chuckles.

Ron's eyes dart towards them but instead of verbally attacking Harry, he aims for Hermione.

"What are you laughing at? You're dating one of these bloody snakes, too! That's all they are, dirty snakes trying to poison you all and you're all big enough plonkers to fall for their fanny little shite!"

Stunned silence reigns inside the common room until one of the first years runs off, whining, which is promptly followed by the appalled sounding voice of Professor McGonagall.

"Mr Weasley!"

She is standing next to the notice board where she added a new piece of parchment to the announcements already in place.

Ron pales visibly at the sight of her tight lips which form a line narrower than Harry would have believed physically possible.

"I cannot believe this! Intolerant rhetoric will not be condoned at Hogwarts under any circumstances. You are to report to my office for two weeks of detention, starting tomorrow. I shall expect you at eight o'clock in the morning. If you're late, prepare to serve detention for an even longer period of time."  
"Tomorrow is Sunday!" Ron protests and McGonagall's nostrils flare.

"Let's make that two and a half weeks of detention, Mr Weasley. I'm tempted to reduce points but seeing as the parties you wronged are members of you own house, the punishment will not be confided to you. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, professor." Ron sounds very feeble all of a sudden.

"If I hear of one single occurrence involving you harassing one of your fellow students or issuing homophobic comments, your punishment will exceed the simplicity of detentions. Are we clear?"

"Yes, professor."

"I will see you tomorrow, then."

With a flourish of her robes, the deputy headmistress exits the common room, leaving behind a tense silence which Ron eventually breaks by glaring at Seamus and Harry.

"I won't share my dorm with two poofters!"

"Relax, Ronald," Seamus says, raising his hands in a calming gesture though the grin on his face betrays the mockery. "I'm not gay. I'm bisexual. No worries, then."

"Just stay away from me, you ponce!"

"Gladly!" Seamus shouts after Ron who flees Gryffindor tower. The Irish boy flops down next to Harry, who smirks.

"How exactly did you and Theo happen?" he asks, both to break the tension as well as to satisfy his own curiosity.

"Astronauts and cavemen, mate."

Harry chuckles.

"No, seriously, that started it. We were just talking all the time, and it always made me feel special, you see, because Theo doesn't really talk much to anyone, and I was starting to have, you know, feelings... And Lav is really exhausting, you know? I don't know what rode me to steal her from Ron in the first place... But Theo and me, we work, you know?"

"That's really sappy," Harry replies and the three of them share a laugh.

Suddenly, Colin Creevey is hovering at Harry's elbow, eyes wide with something Harry identifies as curiosity.

"Hello, Colin," Harry says, grateful that the boy isn't carrying his camera.

"Hullo, Harry," he replies, biting his lip.

"What is it?"

"My friends and I, we sort of overheard - not intentional, honestly -"

"Ron didn't try to be discreet," Hermione concedes and, encouraged by her words and Harry's smile, Colin takes a deep breath and speaks.

"My friends and I heard that Ron said he isn't sleeping in a dorm with two... Well, we were wondering, who else is gay in your year?"

"I'm bisexual," Seamus clarifies redundantly.

Meanwhile, Harry's eyes go wide, realising that, without wanting to or not, Ron might have just outed him in front of a hoard of eavesdropping students.

His eyes dart to Hermione, who shrugs noncommittal, then to Seamus, whose expression Harry translates as, "Up to you, mate."

Well, Harry isn't ashamed. It's just that he didn't want any more gossip circulating about him than is already flying about. Still, the news of him being gay wouldn't exactly be gossip; it would be fact.

Besides, he's a bloody Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake.

"It's me, Colin. I'm gay."

For a second it looks as though Colin's eyes might pop from his head as he processes the information. Then he swallows what Harry suspects to have been a high-pitched shriek of surprise.

"Cool! We never would guessed, Harry. And don't worry, I doubt anyone will give you a hard time for it. You're Harry Potter, after all!" Colin says in a rush, then hurries back to his friends, bringing them the news.

Harry groans and allows his head to hit the table top. By tomorrow morning, the entire school will know.

XXX

Harry has been waiting for less than ten minutes when suddenly, a door appears in the wall, opening to reveal one exhausted looking Draco.

His grey eyes search the hallway until they instinctively fall on the spot where Harry is standing. Harry slides the Cloak off his head, grinning.

Draco lets the door fall shut, waits a beat, then opens it again and they step into the spacious room. A large bed, a soft sofa, an adjourning bathroom with shower and a tub, refreshments at the mini-bar. The Room of Requirement really seems to like them.

Harry throws himself onto the sofa with a groan. "Let's stay in here until Monday, please."

Draco quirks an eyebrow. "Done something, Harry?"

Harry's breath still hitches whenever Draco uses his first name.

"Ron, that moron, accidentally outed me to Gryffindor tower. By tomorrow morning, everyone will know."

Draco answers with a malicious laugh. "The Wizarding World's Golden Boy, a shirt-lifter. You'll make the front page."

"They're already calling me a nutter; can't they leave my bloody private life alone?"

"Where would be the fun in that, pray tell?" Draco sneers, coming to a halt in touching distance from him.

Harry glares, then his lips curl into a smirk. "I can think of something that is a lot more fun than bloody gossip."

Draco is in his lap within seconds, straddling his hips and conquering his mouth with his tongue. Harry pulls Draco's jumper off, then mirrors the action with his own. They press and move against each other until both of them are hard and breathing heavily.

It takes some manoeuvring until they have shed the rest of their clothes but they manage eventually, though when Harry reaches for his wand to do the spells, Draco's hand on his wrist stops him.

Harry looks up into Draco's eyes. The Slytherin seems nervous, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

"What is it?"

"I was wondering..." Draco begins but doesn't go on. Harry can fill in the blanks a bit, taking in the flush that spreads across his pale cheeks.

"You want to try something?" Draco nods. "What? I'm happy to experiment with anything once."

Draco swallows and Harry watches his adams apple move as his throat works.

"I was wondering what it's like to be the bottom," Draco finally breathes out and Harry's eyes flutter for a second as the mental image reaches his brain.

"It's brilliant," Harry explains. "Perhaps a bit uncomfortable at first, painful even. But once that passes, it's bliss."

Draco doesn't say anything, just looks into space, lost in his thoughts. An idea strikes Harry.

"Let's take this to the bed, I want to show you something."

Draco follows him hesitantly and he tenses completely when Harry says, "Lie down on your stomach."

Harry wraps his arms around Draco from behind and kisses a trail up Draco's throat. "Come on, I'll make you feel really good."

Relaxing a fraction, Draco climbs onto the bed and lies down like Harry told him to, but the muscles in his back are still tense. Harry realises he never saw Draco's back like this, plainly displayed in the dim light of the room.

Harry takes his time, stroking Draco's skin, kissing his neck and letting his nails scrape across beautifully pale skin. He continues until Draco relaxes under his hands, then swings one leg over Draco's body, sitting back on his heels with his arse just above Draco's calves.

He leans forwards and traces Draco's spine with his tongue. He can feel every vertebrae and it worries him but Harry pushes the thought aside and focuses on Draco's body and the way his breath hitches when Harry's tongue stops mere inches from the cleft of his arse.

"Relax," Harry murmurs into his skin as his hands cup Draco's arse and gently pull his cheeks apart. Harry takes a second to simply drink in the sight of Draco spread open like this, virgin hole only for Harry's eyes to see.

Then his tongue is back on Draco's skin and he glides lower until he can feel the tight ring of muscle flutter at the feather-light touch.

Draco whimpers as Harry circles the perineum, eager to learn just what exactly Draco likes. He travels lower until he reaches the balls and sucks on them gently before he makes his way back to Draco's puckered entrance.

Harry takes his time, massaging the rim of the hole until it's loose under his tongue and only then he presses the tip inside. Draco jolts, a full-body shiver coursing through him.

"Bloody hell!" he curses and buries his head in the sheets.

"Enjoy it, Draco," Harry tells him and then dives right back in.

He loosens Draco up slowly, dipping his tongue deeper and deeper but torturously slow, the way Nathan did to him when he wanted to draw the pleasure out. Soon, Harry has to pull Draco's cheeks apart further and he finally thrusts his tongue inside Draco as far as it goes, then withdraws and thrusts back in again.

Draco's moan is muffled by the bedding, yet it still encourages Harry who works his tongue faster, twirls it, then brings his lips to Draco's skin and sucks at his hole.

Draco shouts and starts trembling and the next time Harry's tongue enters him, Draco pushes back against Harry's face and Harry spurs him on, pulling his hips back against his face and Draco understands the clue. He starts fucking himself on Harry's tongue, lifting his hips off the mattress for more mobility.

The most obscene sounds spill from Draco's mouth, whimpers and moans, filthy and raw and Harry knows Draco is ready.

Carefully, Harry works a finger in along with his tongue. Draco stills when he feels the additional presence but two thrusts are enough to show him it is even more pleasurable.

Draco is incredibly tight and Harry knows he can't work a second finger in, so he blindly grabs for his wand. He eases out of Draco who whines at the loss, but as soon as Harry performs the lubrication charm, he shivers in anticipation despite the tension creeping into his shoulders.

"Just my fingers for now," Harry soothes him, pushing one finger back in. He steadies himself with a hand on Draco's lower back as he works the second finger in slowly, circling them inside his arse to stretch his hole, then he thrusts in and out, building a rhythm and his stomach jolts when Draco moans in pleasure.

Harry crooks his fingers then, probing the walls of Draco's arse until he finds the spot that makes Draco cry out at the top of his lungs.

"Harry," Draco moans, "do that again!"

He obeys without hesitation, alternating between stroking Draco's prostate and fucking him with his fingers. He dares to add a third finger and Draco clenches around him, a sweet promise of how Draco will feel around his cock.

Harry wraps his left hand around himself, working his erection in time with the thrusts of his hand. He finds Draco's prostate at every try now, which has Draco writhing, driving himself back onto Harry's hands wantonly. It is extremely erotic to watch Draco's control shatter into small noises as he arches his back, a shiver running up his spine and then he is writhing, craving the fingers against his prostate and Harry gives it to him.

He thrusts once, twice, three times before Draco climaxes into the sheets, without a hand ever on his cock.

Harry keeps his eyes focussed on Draco's lithe, shagged out form as he wanks, hard and fast, desperate for release and he splashes jizz all over the floor when he comes with a moan.

They lie next to each other in blissful silence for a while until Draco turns onto his back, eyes searching to find Harry's.

"I doubt three rounds will suffice tonight," Draco says, trying for something like an arrogant drawl but he is still too spent for it to have the intended effect.

Harry smirks, crawling on top of the Slytherin, resting his body on Draco's. "I take it you liked it?"

"You know bloody well I did, Potter."

Harry huffs a laugh, then captures Draco's lips in a kiss. There is no rush and the kiss stays luxuriously slow - an act in itself, not a means to an end - for a long time.

Soon enough, however, Draco uses his nails and teeth, igniting small flames all over Harry's body until he feels his cock stir again. Draco is straddling him by now and he pushes his arse back, rubbing Harry between his cheeks. Whenever Harry's cock brushes Draco's hole, the blond shivers.

"Are you sure?" Harry asks because he has to. Draco has never done this before and to do so is a big decision. Especially with Harry, given their history.

Draco slaps his chest playfully. "Stop treating me like a blushing virgin."

"Well, technically -" Harry tries to point out but Draco's devilish tongue in his mouth chokes off any further comments.

Draco pulls back, climbs off Harry and positions himself on the mattress on all fours, wriggling his arse seductively. Harry kneels up and shuffles a bit until he is behind Draco, and he drags his cock playfully across Draco's hole, watching it flutter in anticipation.

Harry runs his hands up Draco's torso and drapes himself across his back, feeling Draco's spine digging into his chest and abdomen.

"I want to see you," Harry whispers and gives Draco a little push to highlight his point.

Draco trembles but moves onto his back, spreading his legs and canting his hips. His pupils are dilated but his gaze sharp, expectant, and a little bit nervous.

Harry kneels between Draco's legs and places a kiss to the tip of Draco's cock, then places another one on his hole.

He reaches for his wand and makes Draco slick and wet, then his finger is circling the perineum again.

"Why don't you use the spell?" Draco asks, only a slight tremor in his voice.

"We have time. I like to do this manually." Harry pushes his finger in to prove the point and Draco's back arches into the touch. "And you enjoy it."

Draco blushes faintly but doesn't comment. Harry is careful, stretching Draco as well as possible to reduce the risk of pain to a minimum. He has four fingers buried inside Draco's arse when his control crumbles and he can't wait any longer. Draco has long since abandoned the concept of speech; Harry can tell by the way his breath hitches and by the sound of his moans what brings him most pleasure.

Harry lines himself up, pushing the tip of his cock against Draco's entrance just enough to tell Draco what is coming. Draco's legs are on his shoulders, toes curling.

Harry glances up to see if anything indicates Draco wants him to stop but when they lock eyes, Harry's breath catches in his throat. Draco's eyes are half-closed, his lips parted, cheeks flushed. Harry moves without conscious thought, leaning up to capture Draco's lips in a kiss that Draco returns greedily. Before Harry can move, Draco cants his hips, driving Harry's cock into his still tight hole.

Draco falls back into the mattress, eyes closed, mouth open in a silent moan.

Harry thrusts forward, watching in fascination as his cock disappears into Draco inch by inch. Heat engulfs him and it's almost too much too soon. Harry stills halfway sheathed, panting, making sure that Draco is still alright. Harry would be rougher, faster, but he doesn't know what Draco likes, bloody hell, Draco himself doesn't even know because he has never done this before and that thought alone almost makes Harry come that very moment.

Harry fights off the orgasm and thrusts forward, gently but firmly, until his balls hit Draco's arse.

"Bloody hell!" Draco grits out, face a mixture of pain and pleasure.

Harry waits, giving them both time to adjust and then Draco wriggles his hips experimentally and Harry sees stars for a second. Draco obviously caught his reaction since he does it again and again, almost reaching a rhythm before Harry's cock brushes his prostate and Draco's hips falter, his back arching off the mattress.

Harry takes over, aiming for that spot inside Draco every chance he gets because the face Draco makes is addictive.

They don't last long. Harry sucks a bruise on Draco's chest, just above his heart like Draco did not long ago and his hips never cease but their movements are turning erratic.

Draco's knuckles are white where he grips the sheets tightly and suddenly, his entire body arches gracefully, muscles quivering and Draco comes between their bodies. The muscles in his arse convulse, pulling Harry deeper and deeper where he spends himself in the tight heat of Draco's body.

Harry has enough presence of mind to brace his fall and not collapse on top of Draco. He flips them over after cleaning up the mess on their skin with a quick spell and Draco settles against his side, head buried in the crook of his neck.

Draco is limp, pliant, deeply sated. His eyes are closed and he is smiling absently.

Harry kisses the top of his hair before he can spare any thoughts for his impulse to do so, and wraps his arm tighter around the boy.

The night is still young.

XXX

**End Notes:** Astronauts and cavemen - ideas, anyone? And if there were tags on ffn, I'd ad "porn with plot" by now ;) Hope you liked it!


	5. Release

**Summary:** Draco is at his wits' end.

**Author's Notes:** A lot of plot this time... it's getting exciting :) WARNING: feels.

XXX

**Chapter 5 - Assembly**

_Right from the start, you were a thief, _  
_You stole my heart and_  
_I your willing victim_  
_I let you see the parts of me_  
_That weren't all that pretty._  
_And with every touch_  
_You fixed them._

_- "Just Give Me A Reason", Pink_

XXX

Despite the problems he is facing with the Cabinet, Draco's mood is currently looking up.

How could he have ever had qualms about anal sex? Yes, his arse is a bit sore but other than that, it truly is amazing.

Harry, meanwhile, seems set on showing Draco everything he has missed, shagging him in every position possible, on the bed, on the sofa, against the wall.

The next few nights and days pass in a blur of Harry, sex, orgasms, colourful bruises and bite marks, lessons and, of course: gossip.

Harry was right; by Sunday morning, everyone knows. Yet there are minimal whispers and even those few who might sympathise with homophobic views don't dare to speak up lest they end up like Weasley.

Weasley, who spends his first detention scrubbing old cauldrons with questionable substances burnt into the material, obviously without using magic.

Draco can only imagine the horrors McGonagall has in store for the wanker once his current task is finished.

And as Draco predicted, the Prophet covers the news in his Monday morning edition. Several people the newspaper cites are friendly, calling Harry brave for coming out of the broom cupboard at such a young age, yet others, who also support the "Potter's gone round the bend" theory, are less civilised.

Draco snorts into his tea.

If those people only knew who the Boy Who Lived has been buggering, they would sing a completely different tune.

XXX

Of course, sooner or later, Draco has to face the truth: He will have to come up with another plan to make the Cabinet work since every attempt so far has resulted in dead birds and shattered hopes.

Draco immerses himself in literature about creating one's own spells and it's time-consuming and exhausting and he can't cut any more time off his studies; his grades are suffering as it is. And he is not spending less time with Harry for the time with Harry keeps him sane. Gives him a reason to look forward to the day in the morning and to fall asleep with a smile at night.

Not that he manages a lot of sleep at the moment.

Still, he will rather suffer from self-imposed insomnia than stop having spectacular sex with Harry Potter.

XXX

Friday evening finds Harry and Hermione at the library, pouring over books for the latest DADA assignment. They want to finish it today since tomorrow there is another inter-house cooperation celebration, again with after-party in the Slytherin common room.

Hermione is distracted, even Harry can see that. Not that he is faring particularly better, thoughts already skipping ahead to when he will meet Draco in the Room of Requirement.

With a frustrated sigh, Hermione throws her book onto the table, casts a quick Muffliato and looks at him with the expression she usually wears when she is over-thinking a subject.

"What's the matter?"

"Blaise told me he obtained the keys to one of the guest rooms. Where we could spend some time alone. In a room with a bed and a bathroom."

Harry's eyebrows shoot up. "Does he know that this sounds like he expects you to sleep with him?"

"I'm sure. He told me to think about it, that we don't have to use the key, but that we could, if I wanted to."

"He's not pressuring you?"

"I don't feel pressured."

"You're not sure if you want to?"

Hermione shrugs helplessly. "How did you know you wanted to, with Nathan?"

Harry thinks back, finding it hard to remember the time when he had no clue about how brilliant sex truly is.

"It felt really good, what we've been doing before. I learned that Nathan knows what feels good, so I was sure he would make sure it'd be a pleasure. How far have the two of you gone?"

Hermione doesn't blush and after the details she asked of him when she learnt of his sex life with Nathan, Harry isn't surprised.

"Heavy petting... A lot of snogging. I know he has been hard before but he never pushed me to finish him off or anything else."

Harry narrows his eyes. Blaise really sounds like a gentleman. "That's good. Well, do you want to?"

"I do, but what if it turns out to be awful?"

"Then it's awful, but you lose your fear of doing it again a little. The next time can only be better."

Hermione considers him for a minute or two, then nods slowly. "I think I'm ready."

Harry beams at her.

XXX

Hermione is not the only one who loses her virginity that Saturday. When Harry returns from two sweaty and delicious hours with Draco, he finds he is not the last one to come back to Gryffindor tower.

Neville's bed is also empty.

He stumbles in half an hour after Harry and his happy smile the next morning despite the few hours of sleep he had tells Harry enough about how his night went.

Hermione also smiles at him at breakfast.

"I take it you two had fun?"

Hermione nods animatedly. "He was really considerate and went slow. He also..." Hermione blushes faintly.

"Come on, now you're blushing? What did he do?"

"He performed cunnilingus. To make sure I come."

Harry's brain immediately supplies him with fitting mental pictures and he wishes he hadn't asked. "What a gentleman."

They change topic then, but after a few minutes, Harry catches sight of Blaise walking over to the Gryffindor table, drawing quite a few stares as he does. He greets Hermione, talks rather sappily about how great last night was and how great Hermione is, kisses her deeply and leaves to eat at his own table.

Hermione swoons and Harry immediately craves filthy, violent sex with Draco.

Draco and he don't share romance, Harry tells himself. They share lust, a mutual attraction, and they fit when it comes to sex. Nothing more.

XXX

By Wednesday, Draco can hardly concentrate. He is exhausted and heavily sleep-deprived. He forgets the time and misses lunch and supper more often than he cares to admit.

Draco has to conceal the circles underneath his eyes magically because he knows Harry will notice and he will worry. Draco doesn't want his worry; it will only serve to make Draco's feelings for the boy get even more out of control.

"How long will you be snogging Granger before you make a bloody move?" Pansy asks Blaise across the breakfast table.

"The art of seduction is one that requires a great deal of finesse, Pansy, not something you would understand. I don't want to squander my chances by rushing this."

Draco's eyes narrow on Pansy. "Why haven't you shagged Longbottom yet, anyway? I thought he'd be really easy."

"You thought wrong," Pansy shoots back, though there is something forced about her harshness. "He's a hard nut to crack."

"Maybe you should just offer to lick it, then?" Blaise winks and Pansy throws a scone at him.

Draco loses track of the conversation as his mind drifts off to the Cabinet Problem. Developing his own spell is difficult and dangerous, not to mention way beyond his experience. Modifying existing spells, though, that might work.

Perhaps Draco should just get one night of restful sleep and forget about the sodding thing for twelve hours but he is panicking. It is almost March and he has nothing to show for his labours. The Dark Lord will want to hear of results soon.

Thus, that night, Draco decides, after Harry leaves to get back to his dorm, Draco won't return to the dungeons. Instead, he will continue tinkering with spells.

XXX

Wednesday night, Harry is ambushed the second he sets foot inside the Room of Requirement. Draco presses into him, insistent and demanding, and kisses him breathless.

When Draco withdraws, Harry chases his lips with his own, brain belatedly catching up with the fact that they have stopped kissing.

Then Harry's eyes realise that the room they are in is a far cry from the bed and bathroom situation they usually enjoy. The colours have changed from light to dark, black and red are controlling the theme and his stomach gives a jolt when he sees the restraints on the bed. There are four of them, two for the wrists, two for the ankles.

Harry's mouth is dry when he locks eyes with Draco's.

"I want you to tie me up," Draco says. His voice is mostly calm but it carries a light quiver.

"With pleasure," Harry growls and pounces on the blond, devouring his mouth and shoving him in the direction of the bed. The restrains are enchanted and immediately close around Draco's joints. He shivers when he feels his mobility taken away.

Harry adjusts the chains to spread Draco's legs a bit more, giving him access to Draco's arse.

"How much preparation do you want?" Harry asks. It is their unique code, a way of communication how hard, how violent they want it to be.

Draco jerks his head from side to side. "Not tonight. Come on, Harry."

Harry's cock twitches. Draco never let him shag him without at least minimal preparation. After his first time, Draco proved to share rather a lot of Harry's proclivities, but taking him dry...

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, you wanker, now get inside me!" Draco snarls but the need in his voice is what eventually makes Harry move.

Draco is tight, even with the spells, but now, Harry doesn't think he will fit. Draco ruts back against him though, seeking the pain, motivating Harry to thrust deeper and deeper. It takes a long time before Draco's painful expression morphs into one of pleasure but his erection never falters so Harry indulges, hammers into his lithe body and when he bites Draco's pale skin harder than he usually would, he can feel Draco's cock twitch where it is pressed against Harry's abs.

What a twisted pair they make, Harry wonders, changing the angle to hit Draco's prostate and the sounds he makes change into moans and whimpers. It is hard to keep his own orgasm at bay when the friction around Harry's cock is too much and when Draco is tied up in front of him, completely at his mercy.

But then, after one particularly brutal thrust, Draco's body tenses all over and he finds release with Harry's name on his lips. Harry's cock twitches at the sound and before he knows it, he follows him over the edge.

They don't stick to one round that night, not after Harry whispers in Draco's ear about how much Harry enjoys being tied up as well.

After that, Draco binds him to the diagonal cross in the corner. Harry feels Draco's teeth nibble on his shoulder, then his tongue glides down his back and before he can process what's happening, Draco is rimming him and Harry tries to rut back onto that devilish tongue of his yet he can't move, strapped to the cross as he his.

Draco has free reign over his body and the thought alone makes Harry achingly hard. The thrill, the pain of his nails digging into skin, everything is perfect and then Draco enters him in one long thrusts, nothing but his saliva easing the passage.

Harry cries out at every shove that drives him into the cross. Draco is marginally taller than him and it gives him leverage as he pushes in. Then there is a hand in his hair, pulling hard and angling his face so Draco can steal the last of his breath with a kiss.

Harry loses every sense of time. It might have been ten minutes, it might have been an hour or more that Draco's cock worked his arse open but Harry has no coherent thought left to give a damn.

Suddenly, Draco changes the angle and Harry arches his back as intense pleasure floods his mind but Draco presses him back against the wood with one arm across his back, harder than probably necessary and Harry can feel his airway constrict at the pressure.

Draco's teeth sink into his skin and it's over, the force of his orgasm hits Harry so hard he literally blacks out for a few moments and he is still dazed when Draco comes with a moan and eases him down from the saltire.

Draco pulls him close and kisses his forehead, just next to his scar, which is the last thing Harry remembers before he drifts off into sleep.

XXX

When the sex is equally violent but with a more desperate edge to it on Friday, Harry doesn't worry. Yet when he fails to see Draco at either lunch or supper on Saturday, he does.

So that night, when Draco is dozing on the bed in post-coital haze, Harry takes a closer look at the Slytherin. The Dark Mark is a stark contrast to his pale skin and somehow, Draco's hip bones are even more prominent than Harry remembers.

Draco is still beautiful, but the exhaustion is taking its toll on him. Harry is sure he would see dark rings under his eyes if he lifted the Concealment charm Draco certainly placed there.

Draco must be getting desperate. Whatever his job is, he is clearly failing and the thought of Voldemort punishing Draco for it makes Harry nauseous.

Harry needs to find a way to help the boy, help him without appearing patronising, without trying to force Draco into anything.

Harry knows he can't do this alone, he needs a brilliant mind to help him. He needs to talk to Hermione.

XXX

Harry can't think of anything else that night and he tosses and turns in bed until he gives it up as a lost cause.

Hermione immediately spots the signs of exhaustion when she joins him at breakfast, earlier than most students.

"Are you alright? Why aren't you sleeping in?"

"Couldn't sleep. I need to tell you something."

"Harry, you're worrying me. Your eyes are bloodshot."

"Not here."

They end up on the grounds where no curious ears will overhear. Harry casts Muffliato nevertheless.

"Harry, please, just tell me. Are you in trouble?"

"No, but someone I... know." Hermione looks at him expectantly, willing him to go on. "I've been shagging someone. He's in a lot of trouble and I don't know how I can help without making it worse."

Hermione's eyes widen and Harry can basically hear the wheels in her head turning, trying to figure out whom he might be referring to.

"Who is it?" she eventually asks and Harry takes a deep breath, assuring himself that she is his best friend and she won't abandon him simply because he has been buggering the same Slytherin that called her awful names more times than Harry can count.

"Draco."

"MALFOY?! Are you out of your mind, Harry? That utter git?"

"I know, I know, but hear me out!"

"How could that even happen?"

"Remember when I realised he was using the Room of Requirement? I followed him. I stalked him. I confronted him and... I guess back than it was his way of distracting me from asking more questions."

"Alright, blokes think with their cock, nothing is new. But how could it happen more than once, Harry?!"

Harry casts his eyes down, embarrassed by his answer. "Because it was brilliant?"

Hermione groans, throwing her arms up. "Harry, how can you act like an hormonal teenager -"

"- I am an hormonal teenager -"

"- when there is a war going on and you called the same bloke you're now shagging a Death Eater only weeks before?"

Harry braces himself for her reaction to his next confession. "He is a Death Eater."

Hermione blinks. "How do you know?"

"I saw his bloody Mark, Hermione! I charmed his robes off and pinned him to a wall to get a look at his arm and there it was, skull and snake."

"When did you find that out?"

"A few weeks ago."

"A few weeks- ?! Harry, have you gone mental? How can you still be sleeping with him when you know he could be under direct orders from You-Know-Who to kill you!"

"I know, Hermione, alright? I know just as well how bloody twisted this entire thing is, but please, listen to me. He has a task to finish and whatever it is, he is doing it in the Room of Requirement. But he is failing, Hermione. He hasn't been sleeping at all, he skips meals, the sex... He is getting desperate, Hermione, and I'm worried. Whatever it is, it's not right for a sixteen-year-old to do Voldemort's work. And I think he might be threatening Draco with something. Perhaps that is why his father is still rotting in Azkaban; Voldemort could have broken him out months ago!"

Hermione stares at him blankly. A bird chirps in the distance and Harry watches as Hermione's face softens slightly.

"Alright. Let's say he is being forced into a role he doesn't want. Or thought he wanted but found that he really doesn't. And you want to what, help him? How?"

"I don't know! But I'm sure the Order can help. If Dumbledore weren't bloody gone, I could go to him."

"And tell him you know about Malfoy's Mark how, exactly?"

Harry blushes. "I'll come up with something."

"Well, you need to get Malfoy to confess what he is doing. Or that he wants to stop doing it, either would work. You have to find out what You-Know-Who's leverage is and you can tell him what the Order can do to help. Don't pressure him. Just talk."

"And if he doesn't want help?"

"Then ask Dumbledore for advice. He is wiser than I am."

"I don't know, you seem wise enough to me," Harry smiles, hoping to break the tension.

She chuckles. "Thank you. But really, Malfoy?"

Harry shrugs helplessly. "At first I thought he is some sort of virus that you can't get rid of, you just have to wait until it's out of your system. But by now I think he is more like a drug."

Hermione considers him briefly. "Are there feelings involved?"

"No!"

Hermione raises an eloquent eyebrow.

"We're shagging, nothing more."

"You're worrying yourself sick over him, Harry." Her expression is unreadable but Harry knows that she doesn't approve. Hell, he wouldn't either, if their places were reversed.

"Can we focus on the problem at hand?"

Hermione sighs and rolls her eyes, though she lets it go.

XXX

On Monday, Draco skips DADA. Snape will know what he is up to and not say anything. Besides, Draco wouldn't have been able to concentrate on his lesson anyway.

He is at his wits' end. Modifying existing spells proved like as much of a waste of time as his other theories did. He will never find a way to mend the Cabinet. The Dark Lord will kill his mother and his father and make him watch. If he is generous, he will kill Draco after; if not, Draco can't imagine the horrors that would await him.

Panic spreads through his chest and he wants to crawl out of his skin and curl up in an empty corner where no one can find him until this sodding war is over and everything can return to the way it was two years ago.

Harry can hate him again and Draco can be the spoilt little brat who has no clue about torture and killing.

There is no way out, Draco realises. He can flee but the Dark Lord will find him, the Dark Mark ensures that. And then he will be treated like the traitor he is.

As the hopelessness of his situation dawns on Draco, the panic rises in his throat, taking his breath away and Draco hurries out of the Room and into the nearest bathroom, trying to get his body back under his control but everything is in vain.

He can do nothing but grip the sink and let the panic engulf him.

XXX

Draco isn't in DADA. A quick glance at the map shows Draco is not on it, so he must be in the Room of Requirement.

Draco isn't at supper either. Harry makes an early exit, hurries out of the Great Hall and checks the map again in a deserted corner.

Draco's dot is in a bathroom on the seventh floor, unmoving. Why is Draco in the bathroom? Why isn't he coming down? Did something happen?

Worry rising in his chest again, Harry climbs the stairs two at a time, uses every secret passage he knows of and five minutes later reaches the door to the loo. Draco's dot still hasn't moved.

Gently, Harry pushes the door open and steps inside. He locks up behind him, not wanting anyone to barge in.

Harry's feet carry him two steps into the room before he sees Draco. The Slytherin is gripping the sink tightly, his head is bowed and the small whimpering noises almost sound like he is crying.

Harry stops and the small sound is enough. Draco's head whips up and their eyes meet through the mirror. Harry raises his hands to show he means no harm and slowly advances.

Draco averts his eyes from Harry's as he starts to tremble, probably from the effort of keeping himself together. Something must have happened to leave Draco so devastated and Harry wishes nothing more than to sweep Draco up in his arms and hold him until he feels better.

XXX

Draco can't look at Harry. That wanker. Of all the positions he could have found Draco in, he chose with lethal aim the one where Draco is at his most vulnerable.

The panic attack left him feeling raw and he couldn't stop the tears. Now they are burning lines into his skin as he hears Harry step closer, hands raised. Draco wants to run from the room, hide where no one can find him, where Harry can't see him like this but his limbs won't listen.

Then Harry is next to him, extending one hand slowly, giving Draco enough time to stop him.

When Draco doesn't Harry grips his shoulder, not tightly but firm enough to tear Draco out of the world of his thoughts and turn him around so they are standing toe to toe.

Fingers brush his cheek and wipe away a stray tear there, then they caress the skin underneath his jaw and tilt his head up slightly. Harry wants to look him in the eye but Draco refuses to let him, squeezes his eyes shut which only allows more tears to spill. Harry wipes them all away with gentle touches and eventually wraps his arms around Draco, pulling him close.

Draco inhales the smell of Harry's skin and buries his face into Harry's chest, aware that he will get tears on his robes but the Gryffindor doesn't seem to care.

"Shh, it's alright. I've got you." Harry's voice is as soothing as his touch and something inside Draco simply breaks, shattering his resolve and before he can help it, he can't hold back the sobs and the noises that make him feel pathetic and weak, like the failure that he is but Harry is still there, holding him tight and whispering nonsense that helps nonetheless.

He runs out of tears at one point and the dry sobs subside soon thereafter. He keeps his head where it is pressed against Harry's chest though, clings to him as to not have to face the pity and whatever other stupid emotion Harry's eyes will show.

"Draco," Harry says softly, "do you want to go to the Room of Requirement? It will be warmer. And more comfortable."

Draco nods, feeling numb now that the panic has left him, and he lets Harry pull him gently along and into the room, which has a fireplace and a luxurious sofa. The crackling of the fire is the only sound as they sit down, Draco's head resting on Harry's shoulder.

The boy seems content to just sit there with him, doesn't push, doesn't ask and Draco can't find words for his gratitude.

Eventually, Draco stops feeling like he might fall to pieces the next moment, and he moves, disentangling his limbs from Harry's. He leans back against the comfortable couch and finally looks up to meet Harry's gaze.

To his surprise, there is no pity, only worry. Draco wants to say something but he has no idea what he might possibly say. 'Thank you' sounds like an empty phrase in his head.

"What happened?" Harry asks when Draco remains silent.

"It's nothing," Draco croaks, voice hoarse from crying.

"You had a complete break-down. Don't tell me that's nothing." Harry's hand covers Draco's and without thinking about it, Draco turns his palm up and laces their fingers together.

Perhaps he should come clean. Not completely, but tell Harry that he has been set an impossible task and his inevitable failure will lead to a fate worse than death.

"What is going on, Draco?" Harry probes, yet still without urgency in his voice. "I can help you, whatever it is."

"No one can help me." Draco shakes his head vehemently. "No one."

"Draco, whatever it is, you don't have to do it. There's always a choice-"

Harry's words are so ridiculous that they chase Draco off the sofa. "I haven't got any options!"

"You always have options-"

"No! I've got to do it! He'll kill me! He'll kill my whole family!" Draco is shouting now, panic rising in his throat again, especially when he realises what he just admitted to.

Harry's eyes have gone wide and his green eyes are shining in the light of the fire while Draco desperately tries to get his breathing under control.

Something slides into place in Harry's mind and suddenly the shock is gone from his features, replaced by resolution.

"Draco, calm down," he begins but Draco can't.

"It's no use, Harry! I've tried everything! And soon he'll find out what a failure I am and he'll kill my parents and make me watch!"  
"Did he tell you he would?"

Draco nods, remembering the night the Dark Lord informed him about his task and what would happen should he fail.

"Draco, I'm so sorry-"

"Stick your pity up your arse, Potter!" Draco snarls and recoils from Harry's touch but the boy is stronger than he is, especially since Draco hasn't slept properly in weeks and not eaten in Merlin knows how long.

Draco tries to struggle, he thrashes in Harry's grip until Harry hugs him tightly and all the fight leaves Draco limp against Harry's body.

Harry walks them back to the sofa and sits them down again.

"Draco, I need you to listen to me carefully, alright?" Harry pauses, obviously waiting for an answer but all Draco manages is a nod.

"I can help you. Perhaps not me directly, but I have connections to the Order of the Phoenix." Draco remembers the Order - father told him about the resistance that had been alive even during the First War and aided in his capture at the Ministry. Of course the bloody Chosen One would have connections. "They're resourceful, they can bring your mother to a safe place and you as well when the term ends. Lucius should be safe in Azkaban. But we can protect you, Draco. You don't need to follow his orders anymore."

"I was honoured, at first," Draco admits, closing his eyes. "I was sure I could do it and become the Dark Lord's favourite. But it's impossible, it can't be done. And he knew that when he sent me in. This is mere punishment because... because my father failed to get that sodding prophecy."

He feels Harry's lips on his forehead and Draco looks up abruptly. "Why would you help me? After all that I've done... After all that my father has done. He nearly killed your friends last year."

"You're not your father."

"I'm supposed to follow in his footsteps. I am like him."

"Don't be so sure of that, Draco."

"But why? Why help me?"

Harry considers him for a second, probably wording his answer. "You're too young to fight a madman's war only because of the sins of your father. You don't deserve to be used like this."

"You're only saying that because we've been shagging these past months."

"No," Harry disagrees and his tone leaves no room for argument. "Even when I hated you, I wouldn't have wanted you to endure this."

Draco believes him. It is probably a sure sign that Draco is finally losing what is left of his sanity, but he does. Harry's voice is firm and the arm around Draco's back is strong and makes him feel safe.

"Think about it, alright? You can tell me tomorrow."

Draco nods. He should go, he fathoms, do homework, catch up on his studies but his limbs are growing heavy and Harry next to him is warm and comfortable.

Harry pulls him closer and shifts their position so that his body is against the sofa's backrest and Draco lies half on top of him. Draco buries his head in the nape of Harry's neck and allows his body to relax.

At least tonight, nothing bad can happen to him.

XXX

Draco wakes up in the middle of the night. He watches the rhythmic rise and fall of Harry's chest in the light of the fire.

Harry's offer is too good to be true. An option, a way to salvation where Draco thought none existed. He glances at Harry's scar. The Chosen One, a hero, some call him. Draco can't think of anyone better to protect the Wizarding World.

Does that mean he wants to take the offer?

_What do I have to lose?_, Draco wonders. _Nothing_. He is doomed to fail one way or another and if he ends up dead because he didn't complete his task or because he betrayed the Dark Lord is of no consequence.

Still, there is a little spark of hope that Harry's plan might work out and save them.

And Slytherins will always try to save their hide, by all means necessary. If it means trusting the very people his father fought against, the very people Draco hurt more times than he can count, so be it.

XXX

Harry is gently shaken awake on Tuesday.

"Harry, you need to go back to Gryffindor tower or even those dimwits will notice your absence."

Harry snorts, still half asleep. As he gains more and more awareness, he realises that neither he nor Draco are naked.

Then he remembers last night.

"How are you?" Harry asks, taking in Draco's still exhausted but much less agonised expression.

"Fine. You should consider a career as a pillow."

Harry laughs, relieved. He wants to ask if Draco has made up his mind but he is afraid of pressuring the blond.

Draco props himself up on his elbows and Harry puts a hand on his arm. Draco glances down and Harry follows his gaze, noting that he is stroking the spot where Draco's Dark Mark is inked into his skin absentmindedly.

Harry meets Draco's eyes, trying to ask without using actual words.

Draco releases a shaky breath. "I'd like to accept your offer."

It takes a moment for the information to register but when it does, Harry's face splits into a wide smile.

"Thank you."

"Shouldn't I be telling you that?"

"No need."

Draco narrows his eyes and then shakes his head in disbelieve. "Bloody Gryffindors." He sounds amused, though, so Harry relaxes into the sofa.

"It's weird waking up with you when we're still wearing clothes," he comments, lacking anything better to say.

Suddenly, the patented Malfoy smirk is back and Draco's eyes darken. "We can remedy that."

He sits up and strips off his robes, then pulls Harry up at the collar of his shirt and helps him get out of his clothes.

Draco leans closer, so that their chests are almost touching, and whispers "What do you want?"

Harry swallows, feeling his cock come to life in his pants.

"I want you to fuck my mouth," he growls and pulls them into a standing position.

"Bloody hell, yes," Draco breathes out and immediately fumbles with his belt and fly while Harry mirrors him. They have to be quick; they really need to get back to their respective dorms.

The second Draco is naked Harry drops to his knees and swallows his half-hard cock down in one go, drawing a curse from Draco's lips.

Harry works him to full hardness quickly, relaxes his jaw and readies himself to take Draco down as deep as possible. Draco knows when Harry is able to take it, and only then begins to thrust his hips forward, hard and fast, while Harry hollows his cheeks and sucks as if his life depended on it.

Harry works one finger into his mouth along with Draco's heavy cock. He feels grey eyes on him but doesn't look up. Instead, he concentrates on winding the hand around Draco's body and presses the saliva-wet finger against Draco's hole.

His hips twitch violently, pushing his cock deep into Harry's throat and he can't breathe for a moment but then Draco is moving again, faster, more desperate, moaning above him as he fucks Harry's mouth and pushes back onto Harry's finger.

He follows with a second and Draco's grip tightens in his hair. It is only a matter of minutes and brutal thrusts before Draco is spent. Harry swallows and licks him clean, his hands on Draco's hips keeping the blond upright before his knees are able to support him again.

Draco pulls Harry up at his shoulders and bites his bottom lip, then licks into his mouth as he manoeuvres Harry's body and pushes him back, making him sit on the sofa.

Draco follows, straddling his hips and with the sort of elegant grace only Draco possesses, lowers himself onto Harry's leaking cock.

They find a rhythm immediately, Draco pushing down and Harry thrusting up, his hands on Draco's hips while Draco's hands pinch his nipples and scratch his skin. It is hurried yet incredibly hot and before Harry knows it, his orgasm washes over him.

Draco rides him through the aftershocks, then collapses onto him. They allow themselves another minute or so to bask in the afterglow before they retrieve their clothes and kiss each other good-bye.

"I will tell you as soon as I know something," Harry promises as they part ways.

Draco nods, kisses him again, soft and gentle, before he walks off towards the dungeons.

XXX

The Fat Lady is not amused when he wakes her at five in the morning but when she sees the probably dishevelled state he is in, she smirks down at him and swings open without even asking for the password.

It is only inside the common room that Harry realises how his mouth must have looked after the abuse it took tonight and he hopes that the portrait won't start spreading rumours.

Harry needs to tell Sirius and Remus that someone will need help from the Order soon, but he doesn't trust the floo network so he calls for Dobby who appears a second later, eyes as big as saucers.

"Harry Potter! How can Dobby help Harry Potter this time?"

"Hello, I'm sorry, I know it's early -"

"Anything for Harry Potter!" the elf declares and smiles up at him.

"I need you to take a message for Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. Tell only them and only when they are alone."

"Of course, sir! What is the message?"

"I know of one of You-Know-Who's followers who wants out. He needs the protection of the order, as does his mother and father. I have to speak with Dumbledore first, but it would be great if they could prepare something, a safe house, anything to keep them safe when the time comes."

Harry nods at Dobby, who bows deeply, nose scratching the carpet, and disappears.

Knowing the elf, Dobby will probably wake his godfather and Remus right now, so Harry opts to stay in the common room, waiting for the elf's return.

His thoughts wander a little, and fixate on the kiss Draco and he shared just before the Slytherin left for his dorm.

When the thing between them changed from anger sex to soft kisses and muttered good-byes in a hallway, Harry can't say.

They aren't friends; they are definitely not boyfriends... But they have become tolerant of each other, Harry muses.

Before he can dwell on the topic any more, Dobby reappears.

"Harry Potter, sir! Dobby found Mr Black and Mr Lupin at Grimmauld Place and delivered the message."

"Thank you, Dobby. Did they answer?"

"Yes. Mr Lupin told me to tell Master Potter that he will make arrangements for a safe house protected by the Fidelius Charm. He will let you know as soon as it is ready and advises you to speak to Dumbledore as soon as possible. Mr Black wanted to know..."

Dobby trails off, shuffling on the spot uncomfortably.

"What did he say?"

"Mr Black wanted to know which Death Eater you are shagging, Master Potter."

Harry laughs heartily at that and Dobby relaxes visibly.

"Can you go back one last time to tell Sirius Black I will tell him in due time? And give my thanks to Remus Lupin."

"Of course, Master Potter!"

"Thanks, Dobby, you're the best."

The elf beams at him with already watering eyes and disapparates with a crack, leaving Harry the choice between bed and an early start into this Tuesday morning.

Since he didn't get any homework done last night, the choice is easily made, unfortunately.

XXX

Hermione, of course, immediately notices that something has happened the moment she lays eyes on him.

"He'll accept help," is all Harry dares to say surrounded by students in the Great Hall; however he knows that his best friend will fill in the blanks.

Dumbledore's seat at the teacher's table is still frustratingly empty, as it has been for a few weeks now. After today's Transfiguration lesson, Harry stays behind to speak to Professor McGonagall.

"Professor?"

"Mr Potter, what can I do for you?"

"Ma'am, I need to speak to Professor Dumbledore. Do you know when he'll be back? Did he say anything?"

She shakes her head, face unreadable. "He hasn't, Mr Potter, but I am sure that whatever your concern, you can come to me with it as well."

Harry hesitates. He doubts Draco will trust McGonagall as much as he will trust Dumbledore, yet there is no reason to leave her in the dark, at least regarding the general problem.

Harry glances over his shoulder at the open door. "I wouldn't want to discuss it so publicly, Professor."

McGonagall narrows her eyes, then closes the door with a flick of her wand and casts another spell Harry doesn't recognise, though it probably serves to give them some privacy.

"Can you talk now, Mr Potter?"

He nods and decides not to beat about the bush. "I know of a Death Eater within Hogwarts who has been given a task by Voldemort," he begins, ignoring the small twitch of his professor's lip when he mentions the name, "and he wants out. I'm sure the Order can help; that's what I want to discuss with Professor Dumbledore."

He has hardly ever seen McGonagall speechless. She looks at him for a full minute before she regains control of her voice.

"And how do you know of this?"

"It's hard to explain..."

"I'm sure you will find your vocabulary sufficient, Mr Potter."

"That's not... It's complicated, Professor."

"I take it, then, that this Death Eater will only come forward to the headmaster?"

Harry shrugs helplessly. "No offence, ma'am."

"None taken, Mr Potter. Though I'm afraid to say Professor Dumbledore wasn't able to tell me how long he would be gone. How urgent is this matter?"

"Well, he is safe inside of Hogwarts; it's his family he worries about most. I've already asked Sirius and Remus if there is a safe house that can be prepared, so we could move them quickly."

McGonagall nods, her face softening. "I'm glad to see you are growing up, Mr Potter. Only a year ago you would have barged into this situation and tried to solve it entirely on your own without telling anyone what you were up to."

A laugh escapes Harry before he can hold it back. "Thank you, Professor. I think my godfather's to blame for that one."

McGonagall honest-to-Merlin smiles, then. A genuine smile, and Harry feels incredibly proud of himself.

"It was a good choice to allow you to stay with him after all, it would seem."

With another nod, she unlocks the door and Harry leaves, a relieved smile on his face.


	6. Assembly

**Summary**: Dumbledore returns to Hogwarts on Sunday, March 9th.

**Author's Notes**: I usually don't like it when an AU uses the same dialogue as canon but at some points in this story I couldn't help but like it.

XXX

**Chapter 6 - Assembly**

_How long do I fantasise, _  
_make believe that it's still alive?_  
_Imagine that I am good enough, _  
_and we can choose the ones we love_

_Keeping secrets safe, every move we make _  
_Seems like no one's letting go _  
_And it's such a shame 'cause if you feel the same_  
_How am I supposed to know? _

_- "Pretending", Glee_

XXX

Draco becomes increasingly nervous over the following days. His stomach jolts every time he walks into the Great Hall for a meal, dreading the day he sees the headmaster back in his seat and hoping for it at the same time.

Harry said there is a safe house being prepared for him and his mother already and Draco can't believe his luck. How did his situation go from desperate to hopeful in just one night?

It all comes down to Harry.

As a Malfoy and a Slytherin, Draco can't fathom that one could want to help another person - a person who is affiliated with the enemy, no less - without expecting anything in return. Harry, however, made it clear that he would have done the same if they weren't shagging, if Draco was still Malfoy and that Draco doesn't need to thank him for saving his life.

Apparently, that is what every decent human being would do.

Well, Draco has never regarded himself as a decent human being. He isn't even genuinely changing sides and Harry is fully aware of that. Draco won't suddenly stop calling people Mudbloods if that is what they are. Draco won't be friendly to that oaf Hagrid, he won't be nice to house-elves and he won't help the Order of the Phoenix fight their war.

Draco has been disillusioned regarding the Dark Lord himself, not the ideology behind his campaign.

And the Boy Who Lived To Be Self-Righteous knows that, makes no attempt to convince Draco otherwise, and still strives to save Draco's and his parents' lives.

Draco knows without having to dwell on it for long that his plan of keeping his emotions under control has failed just as epically as his plan to mend the Cabinet.

He has fallen, fallen hard and there is nothing he can do to change it, not as long as Harry Potter continues being Harry Potter.

Harry is everything Draco is not. Harry is brave and good and selfless and he will never, ever, reciprocate Draco's feelings since Draco is everything Harry fights against.

Whenever his heart flutters especially hard and it clenches painfully immediately after because it's just sex, nothing more, Draco wishes he had never kissed Harry that fateful night in January, just to spare himself the agony of being in sodding love with the wizarding world's Chosen One.

XXX

Something has changed between them and Harry can't, for the love of Merlin, put a name on it.

It's like Draco is trying to erect walls around him but pulls Harry in at the same time and Harry can't decide whether to follow his call or stay outside.

Draco is just confused, Harry concludes on Friday. Draco isn't used to people helping him simply because it is the right thing to do, not because they have been coerced to or paid. It will pass.

On the other hand, Harry is glad that Draco apparently decided to abandon his task for the time being, catching up on sleep, food and his studies in the meantime.

Harry notices McGonagall's eyes on Draco more often since their talk on Tuesday. If she found out that the Death Eater Harry was referring to is Draco, she doesn't mention it, and as far as Harry can tell, doesn't approach Draco.

Hermione keeps tabs on him, though. Whenever she catches him glancing at Draco at meal times or during a lesson that week, her gaze turns sharp, assessing and she exudes an air of disapproval that annoys Harry a little but he can't be cross with her.

To her, Draco is still Malfoy. And true, Draco hasn't changed much from the spoilt little git that called Hermione a Mudblood and set out to have Buckbeak killed, but still. He is changing. Or is Harry's perception of him just changing?

It's all rather confusing and Harry decides not to think about it but focus instead on the task ahead: Saving Draco Malfoy.

XXX

Draco stills in his movements and watches in fascination as Harry buckles against the restraints that will never let him go. He whimpers as Draco thrusts shallowly, his cock brushing against Harry's prostate for the millionth time that night.

Harry's cock rests against his abs, leaking copious amounts of precome from the stimulation. He looks like something out of a wizard's porn magazine, bound to the sling suspended from the ceiling, head thrown back in pleasure, sweat glistening across his skin.

Draco thrusts again, harder this time, and Harry shouts, another drop of fluid slipping from the slit and Draco bends down to lick it up. Harry shudders at the touch of Draco's tongue to his stomach.

Harry moves his hips, desperately trying to make Draco move faster, grant him release but Draco has a goal: make Potter beg.

He shoves in shallowly once more, and then reaches to his side where the nipple clamps are. He works Harry's nipples with his fingers before closing the clamps around them.

Harry curses loudly, his eyes snapping open. The clamps are magical and move on their own accord, tugging the chain connecting them, drawing the most precious sounds from Harry's mouth.

"You're not going to come yet," Draco warns. It started as a challenge, trying to find out who of them could hold out longer before pleading for release. Draco hadn't begged when Harry rimmed and fingered him, then shagged him so hard he saw stars. Draco simply couldn't hold back and Harry won't be able to either; Draco just wants to hear him say please first.

"Sod off," Harry grits out, panting. Draco responds by slowing his movements, each thrust putting pressure on Harry's by now over-sensitive prostate.

"What do you want from me, bloody hell," Harry tries to shout but he lacks the oxygen and it comes out as more of a whimper.

"Only the magic word," is Draco's smooth reply. On the inside, he is thrumming with energy which wants out, wants him to pound Harry's arse and rip the sling from it's hinges. Which is physically impossible, since the Room of Requirement will never allow it.

"Wanker," Harry moans, straining against the ropes once more and Draco merely chuckles, building a quicker rhythm before going slower again, bringing Harry closer and closer to the edge and pulling him back every time.

Draco rakes his fingernails across Harry's flank, watching the clamps' minuscule movements, and knows he won when Harry's eyes roll back into his head and he bits his lip hard enough to draw blood to keep him from coming without permission.

A full-body shiver runs through Harry and his arse clenches deliciously around Draco's cock.

"Fuck, please, Draco."

"Please, what?"

"Please, let me come already," Harry whimpers and it is the most erotic thing Draco has ever heard in his life.

He sets a brutal pace then, bending over Harry's body while his hips do all the work, and he whispers in Harry's ear, "Now, Harry."

And Harry obeys, hurtling over the edge with the force of a Stunning Spell, coating his chest in strings of come that don't seem to end.

Muscles clench around Draco, drawing him in further, milking him for all he is worth and mere moments after Harry, Draco climaxes deep inside him.

Draco slips out of Harry gently, removes the clamps with equal care and presses a kiss to either abused nipple, drawing another whimper from the boy.

He eases him out of the restraints and the sling magically slips out from under his body, allowing Draco to put Harry down onto the mattress underneath.

In his spent state, Harry won't notice that what Draco is doing is basically cuddling, so he huddles close and his heart jumps when Harry pulls him into a gentle kiss.

Their lips move with practised expertise but without hurry, basking in the afterglow until their brains are restored to their original state.

Harry smirks at him from dark lashes.

"I'm sure that we're having the best sex in our year."

Draco can't help but laugh at that. "Compared to whom? Seamus and Theo are so vanilla, you can smell it on them."

Harry chuckles. "I meant Hermione and Blaise. And," he grimaces, "Pansy and Neville."

Sex? They are having sex? Draco splutters but Harry doesn't notice. How come they didn't tell him?

"Please don't mention them when we're naked and planning a third round, Harry."

"Sorry," Harry quips.

"Say that once more, with feeling, Potter."

"My brain is still post-coital."

"Whoever can pronounce post-coital is not post-coital."

"My brain works in mysterious ways."

"Now that I second."

"Shut up and kiss me, Malfoy."

Draco's retort dies in his throat when he hears the fondness in Harry's voice. So instead of continuing their banter, Draco does as he is told.

XXX

The next day is Saturday and Draco uses the time to catch up with his school work, sharing a table in the common room with Blaise, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle.

He also focuses on how Pansy and Blaise interact with their "marks", respectively their new-found partners, throughout the day. What he discovers is intriguing. He never knew Pansy was such good an actress that she can make convincing doe-eyes at Longbottom. And how Blaise doesn't cringe every time he kisses that Mudblood is beyond Draco.

According to Harry, both of them have already had sex with Granger or Longbottom. Why then would they keep it a secret and pretend they haven't won the bet, if not for the involvement of feelings?

Draco longs to become indignant at the thought - yet even he realises he has no right to call anyone out for being a hypocrite.

He can, however, have some fun nonetheless.

"How is the bet going?" Draco asks put of the blue, gauging their reactions.

Pansy looks like a deer caught in Lumos; Blaise freezes almost unnoticeably.

"I really can't believe that both of you have failed so far. Are the Mudblood and Bongbottom wearing chastity belts?"

"Don't call her that!"

They all turn around to Blaise, who looks surprised himself at his sudden outburst.

"I'm supposed to say that. I'm her boyfriend."

"You mean, she believes you're her boyfriend?"

Blaise pales. Draco turns towards Pansy. "And what about you? With all the attention you lavish on that dimwit, one would think you two might have finally gone down on each other."

Pansy pauses a little too long. "He's traditional. He wants to be sure I'm the right person. It's his virginity; I can't force him."

"You two should work on your deception skills," Draco drawls, smirking superiorly.

Blaise raises an eyebrow. "And why is that?"

"Because I have it on good authority that both you and Pansy are already sleeping with your marks and somehow, you decided to conceal that fact. Now why could that be?"

The Slytherins immediately round on each other.

"You've slept with Longbottom?"

"You've slept with Granger?

"When?" they both ask in unison.

Pansy is the first to crumble. "The IHCC after Valentine's Day."

Blaise's eyes narrow. "The same."

Draco smirks. "Congratulations, it's a tie. Now, how do we determine a winner?" Both of them glare at him. "Or should we ask Granger and Longbottom? They can decide who wins."

"You wouldn't."

"Only if you don't give me a reason not to." Draco smiles innocently.

He wants to see whether whatever feelings that have developed are strong enough to allow them to admit that the entire situation got out of control somehow or whether they will find a different explanation.

"Because I can look for them right now," Draco announces, rising from his chair. "I'm sure they are in the library somewhere; it won't be difficult to find them."

He manages to make one step before Pansy pulls him back down into his chair, hissing at him to sit down.

"You're going to do nothing of the sort!" she continues, her grip on his arm tightening.

"Why, pray tell?"

"Don't pretend like you haven't figured it out, Draco."

Draco glances at Blaise who looks equally murderous. "I want to hear both of you say it. Or else I'm going to the library. You may try to stop me but we all know who will come out on top in a fight here."

A staring contest ensues in which Draco firmly stands his ground. Eventually, Pansy and Blaise share a look and Pansy rolls her eyes.

"Alright; what do you want to hear? I've bloody well grown to like that blunderhead. I've tried to change it, but I can't. So there."

Pansy crosses her arms in front of her chest, her look daring Blaise to speak up.

"Mione is brilliant and strong-headed. What can I say." He shrugs helplessly.

Draco stares at them, unblinking. Then he bursts into laughter. Three Slytherins in one year, falling in love with three Gryffindors is just too hilarious. Well, he might also be a bit hysterical due to his upcoming conversation with Dumbledore...

"What's so funny?" Pansy asks when Draco has almost calmed down again.

"This is like something out of a Celestina Warbeck song," Draco tries to explain. "Two Slytherins make a bet about seducing two Gryffindors and both fall in love. No, not Celestina Warbeck - one of these cheesy, trashy booklets. And everyone dreads the moment the truth comes out and the Gryffindors cry foul," he closes, voice as cold as ice suddenly.

He has no intent of involving himself in the love life of his classmates but they don't know that.

"The truth has changed, Draco," Blaise argues. "So stop being so ominous."

"I'm just saying; you should consider confessing now how this entire thing has started out or it might come back to bite you in the arse at another point."

"And you're not going to say anything, are you?" Pansy asks, eyes narrowed.

"No. I have the information I wanted."

Blaise glares at him. "You're evil, Draco."

"What can I say? I'm a Malfoy."

Pansy rolls her eyes and they return to the parchments in front of them.

XXX

Sunday evening at dinner, Harry freezes when his eyes sweep over the teacher's table and they find Dumbledore in his seat.

"He's back!" He whispers to Hermione, who smiles indulgently.

Harry scoffs down his supper and spends the next ten minutes waiting for Draco to enter the Great Hall. When he sees the mop of blond hair, Harry tries to catch his eye but Draco seeks his when he realises who is sitting at the teacher's table.

Draco has come alone, so no one notices when he nods to the door and leaves the Hall again. Harry is on his feet immediately and catches up with the Slytherin in the Entrance Hall, yet follows at a respectable distance until Draco finds an abandoned classroom.

"We should visit him as soon as possible," Harry opens and catches Draco's eyebrow twitch. Other than that, he doesn't betray his nervousness.

"I think it would be advisable if you spoke to him first," Draco suggests and Harry nods.

They agree upon a time to meet in front of the Gargoyle that mans the entrance to Dumbledore's office but as Draco turns away to return to the Great Hall, Harry catches his wrist and pulls him close into a kiss.

Harry can't word his reassurance so he tries to pour it all into the kiss, tries to ease Draco's nervousness, make him relax.

Draco clutches his robes as if his life depended on it and responds in kind to Harry's tongue.

Draco is the first to withdraw. He smiles at Harry, eyes half closed, brushes his lips once more against Harry's, then leaves the classroom.

XXX

Harry has been thinking about how to explain the intimate details Harry knows about Draco to Dumbledore but hasn't discovered a way that sounds like anything else than a blatant lie.

He will simply try to be as vague as possible, Harry decides as he enters Dumbledore's office after a polite knock.

The wizard smiles at him when he enters and motions or him to take a seat. "Harry, good to see you. Professor McGonagall warned me I might have the pleasure of your company tonight."

"Yes, Professor, I need to speak to you." Harry sits down, declining the lemon drops Dumbledore offers him. "Did Professor McGonagall tell you about my concern?"

"Not much, Harry. Only that it requires the assistance of the Order and that she is rather proud of you for not acting impulsively." He winks cheekily and Harry chuckles. "So tell me, what is the matter?"

Harry swallows, hoping he will remember at least one of the speeches he prepared before coming here.

"I discovered that there is a Death Eater at Hogwarts other than Snape."

"Professor Snape, Harry."

Harry stifles a frustrated sigh. "Other than Professor Snape. The Death Eater is a student and Voldemort gave him a task to complete. I don't know what it is exactly, but Voldemort threatened his family, sir, and... He wants out. I told him the Order can help him, keep him and his family safe. I need you to help me make that happen, Professor."

Dumbledore considers him for a long time, his expression unreadable. "I assume, Harry, that you are talking about Draco Malfoy."

Harry splutters. "How do you know?"

"Professor Snape reported such a thing as you just told me at the beginning of the school year."

"Why didn't you reach out, then?" Harry asks, probably a little sharper than necessary.

"Lord Voldemort is a powerful Legilimens, Harry. Don't forget that."

"So, you will help him? Now that he is willing?"

"Of course; but I will need to clarify the details with Mr Malfoy himself."

"He is waiting downstairs, sir, I can fetch him," Harry suggests, halfway out of his seat but the headmaster stops him.

"How did you find out, Harry, if you don't mind me asking?"

"About what?"

"Everything."

Harry takes a deep breath and explains about their meeting at Madam Malkin's, how they followed Draco into Knockturn Alley, how Harry's suspicions grew and finally, how Harry confronted him. This is where he becomes very vague and he can tell by how Dumbledore's eyebrows knit together that he sees right through him.

When Harry finishes with Draco accepting the offer, Dumbledore's lips barely hide his smile.

"You saw Mr Malfoy's Dark Mark by accident?"

Harry feels the flush creeping up his cheeks, but all he does is nod.

"And you convinced Mr Malfoy by continuously talking to him?"

Harry must be bright red now. The sparkle in Dumbledore's blue eyes is rather irritating. He nods nevertheless.

"And when, Harry, did you start referring to him by his first name?"

Harry splutters briefly, probably turning a deeper shade of red, yet manages to catch himself. "Somewhere along the way, sir."

Dumbledore nods. "I'm glad to see you two aren't at each other's throats anymore." His eyes glance down to Harry's neck so quickly Harry is almost sure he imagined it, yet the knowing smirk the headmaster gives him convinces him of the contrary.

"So am I, sir," Harry admits, smiling back cheekily.

Dumbledore considers him another moment longer, then nods. "I think you can send Mr Malfoy up, now."

Harry rises, and looks at Dumbledore once more. His "Thank you" is sincere.

Harry is almost out of the door when the wizard calls him back and he turns to find Dumbledore looking the most serious Harry has seen him tonight.

"Oh, Harry. Be careful. And don't hurt him."

Harry has no idea what Dumbledore means; he simply nods and leaves the office.

XXX

The minutes stretch on eternally and Draco wishes for it all to be over. He has no idea how Dumbledore will react when he tells the old man that Draco has been tasked to kill him. He might decide that Draco is better protected in a cell in Azkaban.

Hell, he performed an Unforgivable on Rosmerta; he would deserve it.

Harry returns with a smile on his face. "He said he'll help. He wants to talk to you about how it will work."

Draco nods, feeling the dread mounting in his chest. All he manages is a nod, after which he proceeds through the door Harry is holding open for him.

On a whim, he pauses next to Harry and leans in to capture his lips in a kiss. It is neither deep nor bruising; nothing more than a feathery brush of lips against lips but he hopes it will express the words that just failed him.

Their eyes lock when Draco pulls back and Draco tries to draw the courage necessary to mount the stairs to Dumbledore's office from Harry's green eyes.

He makes it to the door and after one last hesitation, knocks.

"Come in," he hears Dumbledore's voice and, ignoring the tremor in his hands, he enters.

Dumbledore smiles at him. Smiles. "Good evening, Draco."

"Good evening, headmaster."

"Please, take a seat. Lemon drop?"

"No, thank you." Draco has no idea where to start, let alone how to explain to the man that he is supposed to kill him.

"You look troubled, Draco," Dumbledore states the obvious.

He laughs brusquely. "I guess Harry told you that I have a job to do."

The wizard nods. "And that you tried to meet Lord Voldemort's expectations," Draco winces at the name, "but that you want to discontinue your service to him, if there is a way to protect your parents."

Draco nods.

"The Order is able to do that. We can establish a safe house for your mother within only few days where you can join her after the term ends. Your father is safe at the moment in Azkaban...when the time comes we can protect him, too."

It is perfect, simply perfect and Draco needs to get the truth out now before he is sucked too deeply into this dream.

"I haven't even told you what it is I am supposed to do."

"I know, Draco."

He shakes his head, not believing him. "You don't know what I've done."

Dumbledore seems unfazed. His expression remains friendly, even when he reveals he thinks he knows what Draco's job is. "Oh yes, I do. You almost killed Katie Bell. You have been trying, with increasing desperation, to kill me all year. Forgive me, Draco, but they have been feeble attempts... So feeble, to be honest, that I wonder whether your heart was truly in it."

Draco gapes unattractively, yet for a brief moment only. "It used to be in it. At the beginning. I thought it would be possible."

"I never thought you would kill me, Draco." Dumbledore sounds entirely sincere. "Killing is not nearly as easy as the innocent believe. How did you intent to succeed?"

Draco swallows around the lump in his throat. "I planned to mend that broken Vanishing Cabinet that no one's used for years. The one Montague got lost in last year."

Dumbledore's eyes widen a fraction. "Ahh... That was clever. There is a pair, I take it?"

"The other's in Borgin and Burkes. They make a kind of passage between them. Montague told me that when he was stuck in the Hogwarts one, he was trapped in limbo but sometimes he could hear what was going on at school and sometimes what was going on in the shop, as if the Cabinet was travelling between them; but he couldn't make anyone hear him," Draco rambles on, hidings his shaking hands in his lap. "In the end he managed to Apparate out, even though he'd never passed his test. He nearly died doing it. Everyone thought it was a really good story, but I was the only one who realised there could be a way into Hogwarts through the Cabinets if I fixed the broken one."

He used to be proud of his discovery, so proud. Now, all he can feel is rue about how naive he was. He averts his eyes from Dumbledore's much too kind expression.

"Very good. A clever plan, in theory. And when you weren't sure you would succeed in mending the Cabinet, you resorted to crude and badly judged measures such as sending me a cursed necklace that was bound to reach the wrong hands."

Draco's eyes snap up. "If you knew, why didn't you stop me then?"

Dumbledore's face remains unchanged. "I tried. Professor Snape has been keeping watch over you on my orders -"

"He hasn't been doing your orders, he promised my mother-"

"Of course that is what he would tell you, Draco, but-"

"He's a double-agent, sir, he isn't working for you, you only think he is!"

"We must agree to differ on that, Draco. It so happens that I trust Professor Snape -"

"Well, you're losing your grip, then," Draco snaps before he remembers who he is talking to. "With all due respect, sir," he adds hurriedly. "Snape's been offering me plenty of help - wanting all the glory for himself - wanting a bit of the action. _'What are you doing? Did you do the necklace, that was stupid, it could have blown everything_ -' But I haven't told him what I've been doing in the Room of Requirement."

Dumbledore considers him, for the first time narrowing his eyes. "You must have had an accomplice, someone in Hogsmeade, someone who was able to slip Katie the - the - ah. ... Of course, Rosmerta. How long has she been under the Imperius Curse?"

Draco's blood runs cold and he desperately wants to lie but he doubts Dumbledore will fall for it. "From the start of term."

He expects his at least will get a reaction out of the old man, but again Dumbledore doesn't do him the favour. "Tell me, how have you been communicating with Rosmerta? I thought we had all methods of communication in and out of the school monitored."

Draco can't help to smirk at that. "Enchanted coins. I had one and she had the counterpart, I could send her messages."

"Isn't that the secret method of communication the group that called themselves Dumbledore's Army used last year?" the headmaster asks, lips curling upward.

"Yes, I got the idea from them."

Silence envelopes them and Draco knows this is it. Now Dumbledore will decide whether to hand him over to the Aurors or to send him directly to Azkaban.

Dumbledore's eyes cloud with something Draco believes his empathy and he sighs. Draco tries desperately to control his shaking limbs.

"I appreciate the difficulty of your position. Why else do you think I have not confronted you before now. Because I knew you would have been murdered if Lord Voldemort realised that I suspected you."

Draco winces, again.

"I did not dare speak to you of the mission with which I knew you had been entrusted, in case he used Legillimency on you. But now we can speak plainly to each other. No harm has been done; you have hurt no one, though you are very lucky that your unintentional victim survived. I can help you, Draco."

"What?!" Draco stares at the wizard, wide eyed. "I almost killed Katie Bell! I used an Unforgivable on Rosmerta! I've been plotting to kill you!"

"Yes," Dumbledore replies calmly and it is the last straw. Draco is on his feet, nervous energy coursing through his blood.

"An Unforgivable! People go to Azkaban for using them! How can you offer to help me if I don't deserve it!"

Dumbledore doesn't even bat an eye. "You are no killer, Draco. You are no criminal, either. You have been forced into a position by powers beyond your control and I believe that you deserve every help I can give you. You proved you are worthy when you decided to tell me the truth, when you accepted Harry's offer."

Draco stares at the headmaster, not able to grasp how the old man can still be such a naive optimist in a world in which the Dark Lord is preparing for the Second War.

Dumbledore is probably able to decipher his expression for he sighs heavily.

"There is good in every man, Draco. There are few people I believe that are beyond saving."

Draco tries to grasp Dumbledore's view of the world but he doubts he will understand this man within a few minutes of contemplation.

He sits down, feeling like the gesture is a significant act in itself. And perhaps it is, for Dumbledore smiles at him.

"We are agreed, then. The Order of the Phoenix will provide you and your family with protection and a secure location in exchange for you discontinuing your work for Voldemort."

Draco nods around a flinch.

"I will also see to it that the Cabinet is destroyed for it poses too big a threat."

Another nod.

"I think it will be prudent if, prior to your mother's move to the safe house, you explain the situation to her. I will ask her to speak to me and inform you in due time so you can be present."

"Yes, I doubt she'd take your word alone, sir. No offence."

"None taken."

Silence falls again and Draco starts fidgeting in his chair as the impact of the agreement finally registers.

"One last question, Draco," Dumbledore interrupts his thoughts. "How come you allowed Harry, for whom you held nothing but contempt and derision for as long as you have known him, to convince you to accept the help of the Order?"

Draco refuses to blush. He simply refuses. Yet he fears his blank mask might have slipped a little since Dumbledore's eyes are suddenly glistening.

"If the Dark Lord kills me because I failed him or because I betrayed him is of no consequence, yet Harry's suggestion offered a small hope," he answers as truthfully as possible without admitting their affair and his ill-advised feelings.

Dumbledore looks like Draco's answer told him more than Draco intended it to, but if it did, Dumbledore doesn't say anything. Instead, he wishes Draco a pleasant evening and guides him to the door.

"And please tell Harry that I will expect him tomorrow at seven. He will know what to do with the information."

Draco can but nod and he leaves Dumbledore's study, emotions swirling chaotically in his chest.

XXX

That night, Draco lets Harry shag him on a rug in front of the fire place in the light of the flames, lets Harry work him up to orgasm again and again without granting Draco release so that, when Draco eventually comes, he is so spent he feels his eyes droop immediately.

The last thing he sees is how Harry presses a soft kiss to Draco's Dark Mark, a symbolic act, assuring him he is safe from now on.

XXX

Harry only realises when Dumbledore asks after the memory that with Apparition lessons, Quidditch, his studies and, above all, sex with Draco, he completely, well, perhaps not forgot but at least let slide, the issue of Slughorn's memory of Tom Riddle.

"Professor Dumbledore, I'm really sorry. I should have done more... I should have realised you wouldn't have asked me to do it if it wasn't really important."

"Thank you for saying that, Harry," Dumbledore says, still sounding disappointed but also slightly appeased. "May I hope, then, that you will give this matter higher priority from now on? There will be little point in out meeting after tonight unless we have that memory."

"I'll do it, sir, I'll get it from him," Harry promises and Dumbledore leaves it at that.

He and Harry follow Tom Riddle's path after Hogwarts, witness what Hokey the house-elf saw and eventually come to the point when Voldemort, not Riddle anymore but not as snakelike as Harry knows him either, asked to teach at Hogwarts.

"Was he after the DADA job again, sir? He didn't say..."

"Oh, he definitely wanted the DADA job," Dumbledore answers. "The aftermath of our little meeting proved that. You see, we have never been able to keep a Defence teacher for longer than a year since I refused the post to Lord Voldemort."

The information shocks Harry and he remembers the rumour of a curse lying on the teaching position he heard years ago. As it turns out, that might actually be true.

"Enough about the past, now, Harry. I have spoken to Remus today and I can gladly tell you that the safe house has already been established. The only thing missing now, is a secret keeper for the Fidelius Charm."

"Who will that be, Professor?" Harry asks tentatively. He can't imagine many people who might volunteer to place their life on the line for the Malfoys.

"That is a very good question, indeed. I am sure that Remus will consent once he knows who the safe house is for, respectively that you vouch for Draco's sincerity."

"And if I do it?" Harry suggests, remembering vividly Draco's dislike of Lupin. The secret keeper needs to be someone Draco can trust; his life depends on the person after all.

Wait, does Draco trust Harry? Enough to place his life in his hands, literally?

"Enough responsibility rests on your shoulders already, Harry. I would not like to add another burden to it."

"Well, who else is there?"

Dumbledore sighs. "We need someone Voldemort will not suspect and whom Draco will be comfortable with."

"Who do you have in mind, sir?" Harry asks, hoping reverently that the headmaster will not name Snape as a likely candidate.

"I was thinking about Professor McGonagall. As far as I know she already suspects what is going on."

Harry turns it over in his mind. Draco might not like her much but even he won't be able to deny her trustworthiness.

"Would she be willing?"

"I am sure of it, Harry."

"It's a really good idea, sir."

"Most of my ideas are." Dumbledore smiles. "If you'll forgive me, in light of recent events, I need to be rather straight-forward now, Harry." Harry nods, eyes narrowing, wondering what is to come. "What is the nature of your relationship with Draco, Harry?"

He didn't expect that question, though manages to keep his spluttering to a minimum, catching himself quickly.

"We aren't in a relationship, sir."

Dumbledore's eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline.

"Really, sir. It's not... We're just..." Harry has no idea how to explain without sounding like the hormonal teenager that he is.

Dumbledore takes pity on him. "Do you really believe that after what you achieved with Draco that your acquaintance hasn't grown past petty needs and entered the realm of genuine emotions?"

Harry feels his face heat up as he hears the proof that the headmaster knows exactly what their interactions are like.

"We're not friends, sir," Harry choses to say. "We're not enemies either, not anymore. I can't tell you what we are."

"What do you want the two of you to be?" Dumbledore's face doesn't betray a hint of anything, neither indignation nor curiosity.

Harry has no idea. He doesn't want to have an idea.

"I haven't really thought about it, Professor. And I don't think I want to. Whatever this is, it can be over any moment. I don't want to hope for something that will never happen."

Harry can tell by the look in Dumbledore's eyes that he gave away more than he even wants to acknowledge in front of himself, let alone the headmaster.

"Don't underestimate the power of emotions, Harry."

"Given my history, I doubt I ever will, sir."

Dumbledore seems satisfied with his answer and rises from his chair. "Very well then, I shall speak to Professor McGonagall tomorrow and inform Draco in due time."

"Thank you, sir."

"I should tell you this. You changed two lives for the better with what you did, Harry."

"I did what everyone would have done."

Instead of a reply, Dumbledore give him a proud smile and Harry's chest swells as he exits the room.

XXX

Dumbledore informs Draco by owl that he is to come to his office on Saturday. The headmaster cites no reason, yet Draco is sure that is the day his mother will come to the castle. Sunday, she visits Lucius.

"Mother is coming on Saturday," Draco blurts Thursday night as he lies next to Harry on the bed in the Room of Requirement, sweat still damp on their skin.

"Do you know what you will say to her?" Harry props himself up on an elbow to be able to look at him.

Draco shakes his head. "It's hard to explain."

"She's your mother. I imagine she'll understand."

There is a note of sadness in Harry's tone and it takes Draco a moment before he realises that Harry never had a mother to understand whatever he did. Would his relatives understand? They are Muggles, Draco knows, but still.

"I hope. I'm not sure how loyal she still is to the cause."

Harry opens his mouth as if to speak, then closes it again. Eventually, he asks, "What will you do if she refuses?"

Draco narrows his eyes at the ceiling. "Force her. I don't know. I won't leave her behind to be killed when the Dark Lord learns of my failure."

"You'll convince her. If you want me there, I'll gladly help."

Draco turns his head towards Harry. "Thanks, but I doubt she will be well tempered when you are involved."

Harry seems to remember that he is the reason her husband is in Azkaban then. "Oh, sorry."

"Any tactical ideas?" Draco asks since he is truly at a loss how to start the conversation with his mother.

"Don't mention the shagging."

Taken by surprise, Draco bursts into laughter. "Yes, next thing I'll tell her that she will never be a grandmother. Convincing her won't be a problem then since I'll have been disinherited."

Draco continues to laugh softly, but soon notices that Harry is staring. "What?"

"You haven't told your parents?"

Draco snorts derisively. "We're purebloods, Harry. Purebloods aren't gay. You marry the witch your parents agree on with her parents, or the one you take a fancy to if you're lucky, then you see to it that you continue the family name."

"I'm sure you're not the first pureblood queer."

"By no means. No one will say anything if you shag someone on the side if you're discreet about it. As long as you don't make it public."

Harry blinks at him, eyes wide, mouth hanging slightly open.

"Oh yes, I forgot. You're out and proud. And I guess your parents wouldn't have had a problem with their son being a ponce. But there are a lot of people who still think it's sick. Don't make the world out to be the pretty little bubble you have experienced. If you weren't the Chosen One, there'd be a lot more backlash."

Harry is silent, then, and Draco returns his eyes to the ceiling, worrying about Saturday.

"I think they wouldn't have had a problem," Harry whispers eventually. "After all, two of their best friends are gay."

Draco wants to ask who but he knows it isn't his place to be curious, so they fall back into thoughtful silence.

XXX

Saturday afternoon comes too quickly for Draco's liking. He runs into Harry when he reaches the Gargoyle, though, which doesn't surprise him.

"Good luck," Harry says sincerely. "And tell me how it went, alright?"

"I'm surprised you haven't found a way to spy on us directly," Draco jokes but promises to tell Harry after.

Draco is about to come up with an excuse to kiss Harry again when the passage to Dumbledore' study opens. No one comes out but Draco takes it as the sign that his mother has arrived via floo.

He nods at Harry who smiles encouragingly, and ascends the stairs.

Narcissa is sitting in front of Dumbledore's desk, a cup of tea in front of her which she hasn't touched. She looks worried and her head whips around the second the door opens.

"Draco!"

"Hello, mother."

"I'm starting to worry, Professor. What is the real reason you asked me to come?"

Dumbledore rises from behind his desk. "I believe Draco is better suited to explain than me. I will be waiting in the library." He proceeds through a door to their right and when it clicks shut, Narcissa is on her feet and hugs Draco tightly.

"How are you? Have you been eating? You've lost even more weight since Christmas-"

"I'm better, mother, stop worrying."

"How can I not when the headmaster summons me to his office? What's going on?"

Draco can see it in the lines in her skin that she assumes he has been discovered and will be expelled due to what he did. Draco takes a deep breath and begins.

"I tried my best to fulfil the Dark Lord's wishes, yet I found the task... not merely challenging but impossible. Nothing I did yielded results. You know what that means, don't you, mother?"

A surprised whimper escapes her and Draco can see how she is fighting back tears.

"He... When he first assigned me the task, he also told me exactly what would happen if I failed..." He trails off, hoping his mother will be able to infer, though her eyes narrow and her expression prompts him to go on. "If I fail, he will also kill you and father."

He hates how his voice breaks halfway through the statement. Narcissa grows even paler and her hands come up to cover her mouth.

"I suspected but I doubted he would outright say..." She stops, blinking rapidly against the new wave of tears.

"That's why you are here, mother. I found a way out; for all of us."

"How?"

"The Order of the Phoenix, mother. They have a safe house for us where I can join you when the term ends. And they will protect father, too, when the time comes."

Draco waits with bated breath for his mother's reaction, observing how her face morphs from anxious to surprised to hopeful to intrigued.

"How did you do this, Draco? And how can you be sure we can trust them?"

"They have been fighting the Dark Lord since he rose the first time, mother. Helping people is what they do. I don't understand why they want to help us either, but I'm sure that they'll be true to their words."

Narcissa nods slowly, processing, accepting the fact that they will have to believe complete strangers - Muggle-loving strangers at that.

"But how do they know about your task in the first place, Draco?"

Draco knew this question was bound to come up, yet he isn't any more prepared to face it.

"Harry Potter saw me in Knockturn Alley. He's been suspicious of me since we returned to school and a few weeks ago, he discovered that I have the Dark Mark," Draco explains in a rush, thus hoping to ward off any questions. "He didn't tell on me then but continued his attempts to find out what I was doing. He found me at my lowest point, when I realised I wouldn't succeed and that you, father and I were doomed. He said the Order can help, keep me safe. And that they can keep my parents safe as well. He arranged a meeting with Dumbledore."

Draco waits for Narcissa to process the information. He doubts she will ask further questions as to how exactly Harry found out; she knows from previous years that Harry is a snooping tosser who can't keep his nose out of other people's business. The Dobby situation was proof enough.

"And you want to go through with this, Draco? This is..." She shakes her head, horrified. "This is treachery of the highest degree! The Dark Lord will kill you for this when he finds out."

"I'm dead either way, mother!" Draco replies, trying to reign in his emotions. "I can't complete the task. He will kill me for failing him and he will make me watch as he makes sure you will suffer the same fate at his hands!"

Draco forces the volume of his voice down; screaming at his mother won't solve anything.

"At least like this we have a fighting chance of survival. It is our best chance to still be standing for as long as the Order is still intact."

Draco has no idea if the Order will win the war or if the Dark Lord will and he suddenly hopes for his defeat, if only because it will secure his family's survival.

His mother is quiet for a long time and Draco finds his eyes drawn to Fawkes who is cleaning his feathers absent-mindedly.

"And are you sure they will protect Lucius as well? After all he did?"

"Dumbledore gave me his word, mother. He doesn't strike me as a man who breaks it easily."

"He did, even after he learned that you were tasked to kill him?" his mother wants to know and Draco's mind reels as he wonders how much he should reveal to her.

"Yes, he did. He told me he doubts I would have even been able to actually kill him. As far as he is concerned, I have been forced into this role unwillingly and shouldn't be held accountable for my actions."

He holds his mother's eye, hoping that she will make the right decision. The only decision that offers a little chance of survival.

After what seems like a lifetime, she nods; a jerky movement as if she is afraid to fully acknowledge that they have just decided to become traitors to the Dark Lord.

"Your father won't be happy."

"Father will see that this is the best option."

Suddenly, Narcissa moves and Draco finds himself in a bone-crushing hug that lasts several minutes. Draco can't remember the last time his mother showed this much emotion and is grateful when she doesn't say anything else. Instead, she wordlessly lets him lip out to fetch Professor Dumbledore.

XXX

Harry jumps him when Draco emerges from Dumbledore's office and waits for him to say something.

Draco decides he can allow the relief finally hit him in Harry's company, and he smiles brightly. "She accepted."

Suddenly, Harry is on him, pressing him against the stone wall next to the Gargoyle and devours his mouth. Draco's body catches up soon enough and he pulls Harry close, deepening the kiss. It doesn't turn violent or filthy; it is simply a kiss and it feels more intimate than anything they have ever done.

When they part, Harry rests his head against Draco's and Draco's eyes remain closed as they both breathe for a while. Draco's heart pounds high in his chest as he doesn't move, unwilling to shatter the moment they are sharing.

"Room of Requirement?" Harry whispers and Draco nods against his skin.

They rush through the halls, occasionally evading groups of other students, until they reach the inconspicuous wall and hurriedly make the door appear. Once inside, Harry pushes Draco against the wall again, resuming the kiss from earlier with the same intimate energy.

That moment, it is easy for Draco to believe they share something that goes beyond mere shagging and just for today, he allows himself the indulgence without telling himself to stop thinking like Harry might actually love him back.

Harry starts unfastening Draco's robes with gentle fingers and Draco mirrors his action on Harry's robes. The weather is getting warmer so there are less clothes in the way but he is still grateful for the fire the room lit for them, if only for the handsome light it sheds on Harry's features.

Draco takes control once they are only in their pants, pushing Harry back until his feet hit the bed and he falls back onto the mattress. Draco climbs over him, kissing his way up Harry's torso, licking at his abs and tonguing the nipples, then nibbling along his jaw before claiming his mouth.

Harry's hands rake over Draco's lithe form, as gentle as Draco is in their ministrations. It might be rather vanilla what they are doing but Draco can't find it in him to stop the soft caresses. He strokes Harry's flank with a hand and the feather light touches make the Gryffindor shiver, goose bumps appearing on his skin.

Draco maps Harry's entire body with his tongue until he reaches the waistband of Harry's pants. He pulls them down, Harry's heavy cock springing free and Harry gasps. Draco continues, trailing kisses up and down Harry's shaft, lapping at the precome briefly, teasingly sliding his tongue against the slit which makes Harry moan, but he moves on to Harry's balls next.

Draco slides off the bed to kneel on the floor and he pulls Harry closer to the mattress' edge. This way, his hands can keep caressing Harry's skin, occasionally pinch his nipples or scratch with a nail, while his lips and tongue continue their work on Harry' cock.

Harry has grown sensitive. Where usually only strong pain and pressure elicited a response, the softest brush of Draco's lips now draws a whimper. Harry is positively writhing when Draco sucks his cock into his mouth and tongues the glans just the way he knows Harry likes it.

He pulls of again with a pop that sounds loudly even over the crackling of the fire. Harry's cock falls back against his abs, granting Draco free access to Harry's balls and he takes full advantage of that, sucking both of them into his mouth and massaging them with his tongue.

Eventually, when Harry is a whimpering mess on the mattress, Draco's hands slide down and dip behind Harry's testicles, lifting them up so Draco can press a soft kiss against Harry's hole. It twitches eagerly and Draco grins into Harry's arse.

Draco nudges Harry until he rolls onto his stomach eagerly, wriggling his hips in a quest for friction but Draco pulls him further towards him until his cock is hanging free and Harry's knees touch the ground. Draco sheds his pants and bends over Harry's back, hands mapping this side of his body with equally gentle touches. He shifts until his cock presses deliciously against Harry's arse but he ignores the urge to rut into the boy.

Draco kisses his way down until he reaches Harry's arse, then licks a wet trail along his crack and eventually spreads his cheeks. The softest flick of Draco's tongue against his perineum makes Harry whimper in the state he is in.

Draco keeps teasing, circling the ring of muscle with his tongue, his hands holding Harry in place lest he try to rock back into Draco and only when he can't resist anymore, he enters the tight heat of Harry's arse.

He maps him inside just as devotedly as he did his outside and Harry keens, back arching off the mattress.

By the time he begins thrusting his tongue in and out of Harry's hole, the boy is sweating, mumbling curses into the sheets, breathing heavily.

Draco pushes in and pulls back out, licks wet trails above and under Harry's entrance, then dives back in while twisting his tongue until Harry's entire body starts trembling.

"Please, Draco," Harry begs and the raw need in his voice makes Draco's cock twitch where it hangs, ignored.

Draco pushes his tongue in as far as it goes, pressing his lips against Harry's skin and then he sucks, moving his tongue inside of him, fully aware that it will do the boy in immediately.

Harry doesn't disappoint. He clenches around Draco's tongue and comes against the side of the bed, shivers coursing through his body as he moans, finally finding release.

Draco watches, sitting back on his heels, as Harry turns onto his back and slides off the bed, looking straight at him with clouded eyes.

"Bloody hell," he breathes and doesn't go on.

Draco belatedly remembers he needs to school his expression because he fears his eyes might betray his feelings right now.

He grips his erection as a diversion and slowly wanks, his eyes mapping the skin he explored with his mouth. Harry moves then, slowly closing the minimal space between them and he sits back on his heels as well.

He kisses Draco tenderly and Draco can't get over how sodding perfect it feels. Harry pulls back just as gently and runs his fingers across Draco's skin, lingering over bruises he left yesterday that Draco didn't heal because he doesn't have Quidditch practise until tonight.

Harry's tongue burns a path into the skin of his torso before Harry uses it to lick off the precome gathered around the slit and then closes his lips around Draco's glans. Harry moves slowly, sucking incrementally more of Draco into his mouth every time. It feels so bloody intimate that it makes Draco's chest ace and his throat produce the most pathetic whimpers but Harry keeps at it until Draco hits the back of his throat, then relaxes his jaw and takes him down further and further until Draco is fully sheathed.

Harry's hands caress his inner thighs and then his balls when he swallows around Draco's cock, making him moan when he feels Harry's throat constrict around his erection.

Harry doesn't ease off but keeps the position, swallowing again and again and Draco has to focus as to not thrust up blindly and choke Harry too much.

Draco can feel his orgasm building, the familiar heat pooling in his groin and his breath comes even faster now. Harry swallows three times quickly in a row and it sets Draco on fire instantly.

He opens his eyes when Harry draws back just as his orgasm hits and watches open-mouthed as Harry angles Draco's cock to spill onto Harry's outstretched tongue. The boy swallows with closed eyes, licks Draco's deflating erection clean and only then pulls off.

They both collapse onto the cushions next to them and Harry pulls the blanket off the bed and spreads it over their bodies, shuffling closer so their bodies are mere inches apart.

Draco feels warm and happy, more relaxed than he has felt since the holidays and he allows himself to believe Harry's green eyes show the same emotions filling Draco's chest.

They don't speak, only gaze into each others' eyes. It is incredibly sappy but it completes the illusion so perfectly that Draco wants this moment to go on forever.

XXX

**End Notes:** Gosh, both Draco and I belong in Romantics Anonymous... Hope you didn't drown in the fluff :)


	7. Infection

**Summary:** Harry has an epiphany. Now all he needs to do is Gryffindor-up...

**Author's Notes: **Harry and I both went like, "Damn, it's love. What now?!" Thanks, vernie_klein, for bouncing ideas!

Sorry for the ' and "/" divergence here. This was written with both Pages and Word, and Pages screws up the punctuation marks in English…

XXX

**Chapter 7 - Infection**

_Will we ever say the words we're feeling _  
_Reach down underneath and tear down all the walls? _  
_Will we ever have our happy ending _  
_Or will we forever only be pretending?_

_- "Pretending", Glee_

XXX

Harry flops down in an armchair next to the fire in the empty Gryffindor common room. Everyone is at supper but he isn't hungry at all; his head is spinning too much for doing anything else.

He goes over this afternoon in his mind again. Everything shifted while Draco was inside Dumbledore's office and Harry knew that Draco's life depended on the outcome. Waiting gave him too much time to think and to imagine what would happen if Narcissa refused the Order's help, if Draco had to continue his work only to fail and die at Voldemort's hands.

The thought hurt and it took Harry a while to realise that it had no right to hurt this much. Reflecting on the reasons behind this made his blood run cold.

When the bloody hell had he developed any sort of feelings for Draco? When had it stopped being only sex for Harry? When had he started caring so deeply if Draco lived or died?

Harry can't say for sure. The entire thing snuck up on him and caught him completely unawares.

Then the door opened and when Draco smiled, the world tilted on its axis and Harry's body moved before his mind could protest.

The sex that followed...

Harry's heart literally skips a beat as he remembers, watching the flames dance in the fireplace.

He planned on worshipping Draco's body that night but then Draco turned the tables and Harry can say without the shadow of a doubt that the Slytherin is just as deep in trouble as Harry is himself. He felt it in every touch, every caress and damn, saw it in Draco's eyes as they were lying next to each other.

Harry's initial reaction is to panic. Feelings were never part of the plan. But, bloody hell, they never had a plan. Draco needed to distract him and the sex was just too sodding good to stop, no matter how barking mad the entire situation was.

So, what now?

Should they talk about it? Harry shudders at the thought. Should they continue as they have and try to ignore it?

Probably. The Gryffindor inside of him cries coward, yet Harry ignores it. Harry will have to see what happens and adjust. Perhaps this is all just a phase and they will move past it as quickly as they have fallen into it.

_Yes_, Harry tells himself. _That sounds good._

XXX

As it turns out, ignoring one's emotions is easier said than done. Harry can't keep his heart rate under control whenever he sees Draco, whether in the Great Hall or in class and especially not in the Room of Requirement.

He also finds himself talking to Draco a lot more than usually. It seems that the Slytherin is slightly confused as to what brought this on, but he indulges Harry. It's mostly nothing more than small talk, yet sometimes it touches on more serious matters and to his surprise, Harry isn't uncomfortable with Draco in the slightest. Neither is Draco, Harry guesses.

Harry learns a lot about Draco over the following week that way, if by Draco's own words or by what he infers himself. He learns that Draco is a brilliant chess player, for example, according to his not quite so modest tales. That Draco has never in his life met a Muggle. That Draco and his parents don't share a very emotional bond. That Draco is the reason Blaise and Pansy pursued Harry's classmates.

"You brought them together?"

Draco sighs. "Blaise and Pansy were onto me for not sleeping enough, for my failing grades... I needed a distraction, so I bet them they wouldn't be able to seduce two Gryffindors."

Harry's eyes widen but he can't say he is too surprised. "I did wonder why Blaise took an interest in Hermione all of a sudden. Who won the bet?" he asks with a smirk, knowing how much it must irk Draco that his plan backfired rather spectacularly.

The blond snorts. "They didn't even tell me they'd had slept with their targets; I confronted them after you let it slip. The bet was forfeited."

Harry narrows his eyes, astonished. "Really?"

Draco rolls his eyes at him. "I may be a Death Eater, Potter, but I'm not that evil."

"Don't you think Hermione and Neville have a right to know?"

The Slytherin shrugs. "Perhaps. But it doesn't matter now how that began, does it?"

Harry remains silent then, wondering how he could have missed Draco's sensitive side all these years when at heart, Draco is a genuine romantic.

"No, it doesn't," he finally says, raking his hand up Draco's arm and distracting the blond before the conversation turns even more serious.

XXX

Later that night, Harry can't sleep. The pretence is getting to him. Now that he knows what he is feeling, only thinking of Draco as a great shag has become impossible and he desperately wants to change things but has no idea if that is the right decision or if he is rushing into something he doesn't fully understand yet.

Is he really in love? How can he be sure? And is his assessment of Draco also true? Does Draco feel the same? What if it is nothing but wishful thinking on his part that put the emotion behind Draco's grey eyes?

Harry needs to talk to someone. His first thought is Sirius yet he discards that one quickly. Sirius would be too biased, too focussed on Draco's identity as a Death Eater and a Slytherin to give Harry neutral advise.

Harry needs to talk to someone who won't judge and who knows about his and Draco's history.

He needs to go to Dumbledore.

XXX

Harry is nervous on Monday when the rest of his classmates go to Hogsmeade to Apparition lessons and he opts to stay behind and visit the headmaster.

He knows it is much to assume that Dumbledore will help him but after all these years, after all Harry has done, after all this time Dumbledore acted as a guardian, he hopes that he has earned the right to come to the wizard for matters such as this.

Dumbledore is surprised when he lets Harry into his office and Harry pets Fawkes' feathers briefly, trying to ease his nerves.

"What is it, Harry?" Dumbledore asks as he watches him interact with the Phoenix. "Is this about the memory?"

Harry shakes his head. "I'm working on it, sir, I really am. But that's not why I'm here..."

He trails off and something in his expression must have told Dumbledore that this is more of a social visit.

"Can I offer you tea, Harry? Then we can discuss what is bothering you."

Harry nods his thanks and follows Dumbledore into the small library he has never been allowed in before. He eyes the books on the shelves that surround the entire room except where the windows are while Dumbledore calls for tea from the kitchens.

They sit down in two armchairs and Harry accepts the cup, eager to give his hands something to do.

"Why are you here today, Harry?" Dumbledore asks and somehow, Harry muses, he looks like he already knows.

"Sir, have you ever been in love?" he asks bluntly, not knowing how else to breach the subject.

Dumbledore, thankfully, indulges him. "I have."

"How did you know?"

The headmaster's lips curl into a smile. "That, my boy, is a complex question." Harry's confusion must have shown on his face for the wizard continues, "You simply know. Yet only if you allow yourself to feel."

Harry nods, processing the information.

"I assume, my boy, you are talking about Draco?"

Harry shifts in his chair uncomfortably. "Perhaps."

Blue eyes narrow. "Why does this bother you, Harry?"

"It's Malfoy!" he replies before he can think about his answer. "I mean, he's a Death Eater!"

"Love is never that simple, Harry. It doesn't adhere to our petty concepts of right and wrong."

There is something sad in his eyes suddenly and for a moment, Dumbledore looks years older.

"Sir," Harry begins hesitantly, "you sound as if you're speaking from past experience."

Dumbledore regards him for a long moment before he nods with a sigh. "I am."

Harry can't say why it surprises him so much. After all, Dumbledore has lived a long life, why then shouldn't he have been in love before? Why has the thought never crossed Harry's mind?

"Can you... Do you have any advice?"

Dumbledore seems to weigh his words carefully, taking his time before answering. "Don't try to deny it. In cases like this... Use the time you have. It might end before you have the chance to appreciate what you share."

"You say that like – I don't even know if he loves me back!" Harry huffs, shoving the cup back onto the small table next to him.

When he meets Dumbledore's eyes again, the man is smiling.

"Harry, even the blind could see that Draco cares deeply for you. I doubt he would have trusted you otherwise."

"How... Do I..." Harry makes a frustrated noise. "I have no idea how this is supposed to work!"

Not for the first time in recent weeks, Harry desperately wishes his parents were still alive. He doubts his father would have been too glad about his... thing with Draco, but he is sure his mother would have been impartial and ready to help.

"At your age, no one does, Harry. Trust your instincts, my boy. That is all the advice I can give you."

XXX

Harry mulls over Dumbledore's words for a few days, unsure of how to apply them to his situation. In the end, he consults Hermione.

She raises an eyebrow once he has finished. "It's obvious, isn't it?"

"Please enlighten me, then."

She pointedly does not roll her eyes. "Tell Draco how you feel. If Dumbledore says he feels the same, then it's probably true and you have nothing to fear."

"Are you serious? You don't even like Draco!"

Hermione sighs. "No, I don't. But you're my best friend and even if I don't approve, I want you to be happy and you've been fretting over this for about two weeks now and you need to take action, Harry, or you'll go mad."

Harry has the sudden urge to hug her but refrains since Zabini is in the vicinity and Harry really doesn't want to deal with a jealous Slytherin. Zabini slipped one Ravenclaw seventh year puking pastilles after he saw the bloke flirting (one-sidedly) with his girlfriend and Harry doubts Zabini will stop with him.

Instead he smiles and thanks his best friend, deciding that the time has come that he Gryffindors-up and comes clean to Draco.

XXX

His plan is quite nice in theory. In practise, Harry never finds the right opening, a moment, anything that will lead to him naturally confessing his feelings.

It's frustrating.

"I never took you for a coward, Harry," Hermione scalds him after a few days of unsuccessful attempts.

Harry is set on telling Draco tonight. He will look Draco in the eyes and start... How, exactly? Draco, I know it's crazy but I've fallen in love with you?

Harry's resolve crumbles and when he meets Draco on the seventh floor and he immediately draws Harry inside the Room of Requirement, pressing into him and Harry can feel Draco's erection through their robes.

"I've been thinking about shagging you all day," Draco growls into his ear and sucks down on his pulse point.

Harry groans, rutting against Draco's hip and clutching his robes. Wandlessly, Draco vanishes their clothes and pulls at Harry's arm, propelling him into the ground. It hurts when he makes contact with the floor but Draco is straddling his hips before he can do more than grimace.

Draco licks a trail up from his abs to his chest, bites a nipple and then the other while his right hand is palming Harry's cock to hardness, before looking down at him. "Which spells should I do? Both or do you just want to be wet for me when I slam my cock into you? Or can you take me dry? What do you say?"

He bites Harry's collar bone and Harry arches into the touch, every nerve in his body coming alive with the pain.

"Take me dry, Draco," he pants, thrusting his hips up into Draco's hands.

Grey eyes grow immediately darker and within moments, Draco has both of Harry's legs over his shoulder and a finger is teasing his entrance.

"Come on," Harry urges him on, desperate to be claimed, to be fucked within an inch of consciousness.

"Patience is a virtue, Potter."

"Good for me that you're a wicked Slytherin then," he gasps, desperate for the finger to breach his perineum.

Draco shoves it in, hard and unrelenting, and it burns so perfectly. Draco doesn't waste much time fingering his hole before he positions his cock, dragging the tip across his pucker a few times until Harry is positively begging and only then pushes in slowly.

Draco takes his time, pushing in inch by inch, drawing it out as long as he can until he is fully sheathed. Harry's brain is fuzzy with pain and pleasure when Draco leans down to kiss him, all tongue and teeth, raising an eyebrow. Harry nods and Draco moves, building a rhythm, aiming unerringly for Harry's prostate.

It's not long before Harry pushes up to meet Draco's thrust, moaning things like faster, please, yes, Draco, and the blond obliges him, snapping his hips relentlessly.

He comes, hot and violent, without a hand on his cock and Draco stills inside him soon after, collapsing onto him.

"We should move to the bed for the next round," Draco mumbles into his shoulder. "The floor is bloody uncomfortable."

Harry chuckles and puts an arm around Draco, stroking his skin affectionately. If he finds that odd, Draco doesn't say.

XXX

By the time History of Magic is over, Harry deeply regrets his decision to leave his arse unhealed. He was sore when he woke up but after two hours of sitting on old chairs in Mr Binns' classroom, when every subtle movement would send a painful jab up his spine, he desperately wishes that he hadn't been such a sentimental fool this morning.

He has no time during their break since they have to go to the dungeons for Potions so Harry continues to shift uncomfortably in his seat. He can feel Draco's eyes on him and he turns his head, meeting grey eyes that dance with desire.

Harry is out of his chair as soon as they are told to get started on this week's potion and has to fight his blush when Draco and he reach the cupboard holding the scales at the same time.

Draco bites his lip in an attempt to conceal his smile.

The lesson passes torturously slow. Harry is hyper-aware of everything he does and every time he winces, fearing someone will notice.

Draco, the tosser, jinxes Harry's equipment to fall off the table and roll away a few times, forcing Harry to stand up and retrieve it again. They play that game for half an hour before Hermione pointedly uses a Summoning Charm to pick up Harry's measuring spoon.

Harry grins, glancing at Draco, who pretends to pout.

As soon as the bell rings, Harry is out of the classroom, darting into the nearest bathroom to finally heal the soreness in his arse.

A flick of his wand brings release and he rests his arms on the sink for a moment longer. The door opens, revealing a smug-looking Draco Malfoy who steps close, far into his personal space.

"Well, if that wasn't an interesting lesson. Tell me, Harry, what have you learned today?" He sneers but does so without malice.

"That you're an evil git," Harry answers smoothly, then leans in to kiss the sneer off Draco's face. Harry's hand is on Draco's chest and he can feel his heart beating quickly, proving that the Slytherin was just as affected by his condition as Harry was.

Harry pulls back just enough to look into Draco's eyes.

This is it, he realises. This is his moment.

"But I still love you."

Harry holds his breath after the words roll off his tongue. Draco's eyes widen, whether in shock or surprise, Harry can't determine.

Then, the boy snorts. "You're not serious."

"I am. I mean it."

Draco stares at him, incredulous, and Harry raises his hand to caress Draco's cheek, make him feel that Harry is telling the truth, make him realise that Harry really is in love.

"You're even more disgusting than I thought!"

They never heard the door open and now, Ron is standing there, face contorted in disgust. They jump apart but it's too late. Harry can't tell what Ron heard or if he merely saw Harry caressing Draco's face.

Either way, Ron is angry.

"You're shagging Malfoy?"

Draco turns so he is fully facing Ron, then raises an eyebrow. "Jealous, Weasley?"

Ron moves before Harry can process what is happening and Draco's nose breaks with a crack as Ron's fist connects with Draco's face.

Harry waves his wand at Ron, who is thrown back through the bathroom.

"What, you're defending that snake, now?" Ron spits up at him, scrambling to his feet and in a fit of rage, Harry attacks with his fists but Ron sees it coming and deflects him with his wand, throwing him against the bathroom door.

Ron is on him immediately and a fist connects with his jaw. They fall through the door and into the hallway where students scatter with a shout. Harry manages to roll them over then, holding Ron down and punching his face for insulting Draco, for abandoning Harry, for being a homophobic wanker but then Ron head-butts him and Harry's vision goes dark for a moment.

Suddenly, there are arms pulling him back - Draco's arms, his mind supplies, Draco's arms under his shoulders, pulling him to his feet - and Ron is standing up just as quickly, one eye already swelling from where Harry's fist connected with it.

"Harry, he's not worth it," Draco whispers but Ron hears him. There is a crowd of students gathered around them, all eerily silent.

"I'm not worth it? I'm not some slimy little cocksucker who is shagging the Boy Who Lived!"

Harry struggles against Draco' grip but it doesn't give. "Shut your trap, Ron!"

"Harry, stop. Now." Draco's voice is low, dangerously so and Harry wills himself to calm down.

"Ha, he's got you trained already! You're pathetic."

"You're just jealous, Weasley," Draco comments and Ron darts forward again, face livid with rage when suddenly, Ron freezes mid-movement.

"ENOUGH!" Snape roars and the students next to him wince at the volume of his voice. "Have all of you gone mad?"

Silence reigns, even after Snape releases Ron from the spell. Draco withdraws his arms slowly and Harry does everyone a favour and remains where he is, glaring defiantly at the professor.

"Fifty points from each of your houses and detention. The headmaster will hear about this. Weasley, go to Madam Pomfrey, your eye is revolting."

Snape breezes past them with a flourish of his cloak and Ron leaves in his wake, glaring at both Harry and Draco.

Harry is suddenly faced with a choice - how does he react? The accusation is out there; it's lunch time. Within minutes, the news will spread that Ron said Harry and Draco are shagging.

Harry turns to Draco but has to blink before he can say anything when a drop of blood trickles down his face and into his eye.

Draco narrows his eyes at the wound on Harry's forehead and with a flick of his wand cleans it and then fixes it. The hallway is still silent; everyone is waiting for what will happen next.

Harry grabs Draco's hand when he lowers it again, brushing his thumb across the underside of his wrist. He smiles tentatively, then leans in and brushes his lips against Draco in an intimate kiss.

"I hope you believe me now," Harry whispers, smiles, and heads off to lunch, his strides strong and confident.

Hermione catches up with him right before they reach the Entrance Hall.

"Has anyone ever told you that you don't have to be so dramatic all the time?"

Harry chuckles, leading the way to the Great Hall before the rest of the students follow and spread the news.

"Sirius did, once."

She sighs, squeezing Harry's shoulder. "Did you at least tell him?"

"Yes. He didn't believe me."

"What?"

"Then Ron caught us. I hope Draco believes me now."

Hermione blinks at him. "Oh, he better. And if he hurts you, tell him I will use every Muggle means available to me to kill him and hide his body."

"You can tell him yourself at the next IHCC."

They sit down and Hermione opens her mouth to say something, but the noise level has just doubled as the rest of the students who witnessed Harry's display of affection enter the Great Hall.

Harry buries his head in his hands with a sigh. It is going to be a long bloody Monday.

XXX

Draco's head is spinning; hell, his entire world is tilting as he storms up to Dumbledore's office. He prays the password hasn't changed and shouts it at the Gargoyle, which jumps aside just in time to let Draco pass through.

He leaps onto the staircase and takes a deep breath as it rises, taking him to the office door, yet it doesn't do anything to calm the turmoil inside of him.

He knocks and is inside the room before the headmaster has even finished his "Come in".

"Draco?" Dumbledore raises an eyebrow.

"Weasley outed us. In a few minutes, everyone will know about me and Harry; we need to move my mother! Now!"

The headmaster blinks once, then nods, turning to the portrait of a man whom Draco recognises as Phineas Nigellus.

"Tell Minerva." Blue eyes are on Draco again. "She will be gone within the hour. Don't worry, Draco. No one can touch her at the safe house."

A large weight falls off Draco's shoulder but the word is still spinning far too fast. Nothing makes sense anymore.

"What is bothering you, Draco?"

He looks up at Dumbledore, who looks neutral, as if he has no idea what could possibly be wrong.

"Harry said – he – but how – I don't understand!"

Dumbledore smiles indulgently. "I take it, then, that Harry has confessed his feelings."

"How do you know?"

"It is quite obvious to anyone prepared to see how much you mean to the boy."

"Wha- how- that doesn't make any sense!"

Dumbledore raises an eyebrow, unimpressed by Draco's outrage.

"This was never even a possibility! I'm a sodding Death Eater! He's the bloody Chosen One, for Merlin's sake! He can't... love me, this is ridiculous!"

"Have you ever heard the saying, _Love is blind_?"

"So what? How does Harry think this will work? There's a war coming and once the year is over, I'm going into hiding and he is doing Merlin-knows-what to play the hero everyone makes him out to be - there is no chance this is ever going to lead to anything other than hurt."

Draco is panting by now, too upset to bring his breathing under control, too angry at Harry for reciprocating his feelings when he was never meant to, when Draco never thought this would be an option, when they can never, ever be together.

"You would be surprised, Draco, at what love can achieve. The two of you are in a unique position, true. However, you have the chance that your love will survive the war that is coming. Others haven't been so lucky in the past."

Draco's eyes narrow, intrigued by Dumbledore's almost melancholy demeanour.

"Are the rumours true then, sir?" he dares.

"There are many rumours floating around my person," Dumbledore replies ominously.

"The ones about... you and Grindelwald, sir."

The melancholy in the headmaster's eyes turns into a deep sadness and Draco strains his thoughts to remember everything he heard about the war and the fight between Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald.

"Different times, Draco, different people. We started out with similar ambitions until the world drew us apart. I take it, with you and Harry, it is quite reversed."

Draco is silent for a long moment, contemplating, strangely moved by the tragedy in his headmaster's life.

"Do you have advice, sir?"

Dumbledore's lips curl into a smile. "Only wishes, my boy. I wish you will trust your heart in this matter and disregard your upbringing and what other people want you to believe. Make this your own choice or you will regret it some day, Draco."

He has no idea how to answer, so Draco merely nods and leaves Dumbledore to his headmasterly duties.

He heads straight to the Slytherin common room, all appetite forgotten. His head is too full with thoughts that he can spear a moment for food.

It strikes him as strange, that he opts to trust Dumbledore and to listen to his advice but then, he is the man who offered Draco a hand when no one else would have.

So Draco sits down by the fire and thinks.

XXX

Snape keeps Draco, Harry and Weasley after DADA to inform them about the detentions their heads of houses have allotted to them. They are to report to Filch every day after dinner for two weeks and follow his orders.

Brilliant. Filch always has the most revolting tasks for students.

"Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, you are excused. Mr Malfoy, a word."

Draco exchanges a brief glance with Harry, who looks rather worried but Draco knew this was coming.

Once the door has closed, Draco turns towards the fellow Death Eater with a glare, challenging him to say something but Snape remains silent, arms crossed in front of his chest, considering him for a few moments.

"I heard you and Potter were quite affectionate with each other today."

Draco shrugs. It wasn't a question so he doesn't deem an answer necessary.

"Is that why you have nothing to show for the Dark Lord? You have been… associating with Potter this entire time?"

"No, sir. I haven't." Snape raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "It hasn't been going on long."

"What are you thinking, Draco? Do you know what this looks like?" Snape's voice is rising and Draco swallows, trying to keep calm.

"No; so why don't you enlighten me, Professor?"

"It will look to everyone that you are in a relationship with the same boy your master wants to kill. Once word reaches the Dark Lord he won't be pleased since you still have nothing to show for. Did you ever think of the consequences or is your head still so high up in the clouds that you have no idea how reality works?"

"Oh, don't talk to me about how the world works, Snape! I know how it is; I know what will happen when he finds out I haven't fulfilled his task-"

"So you decided to have yourself some fun? Think of your mother, Draco-"

"I did, and she's safe, so bugger off!"

They freeze mid-argument, Draco taken aback by the force of his outburst, Snape probably shocked by the nature of his revelation.

Snape is shaking his head minutely, black eyes filled with something akin to worry. "Oh, you stupid boy, what did you do?"

Draco remains defiantly silent.

Snape's arms come up and grip his shoulders tightly. "Tell me, Draco. Now."

"Let go of me! You can't do anything, not at Hogwarts! And when the year ends, you won't find me! No one will find me! And mother neither!"

Snape's eyes grow comically wide as realisation dawns in his mind. Draco notices how the Professor's hands ball into fists, probably trying to hold back a more violent reaction.

"I take it, then, that you have abandoned your task? What's next, are you going to declare your allegiance to Potter and his band of naïve fools? What's he done to you to wind you around his finger like this?"

"He hasn't done anything!"

Snape opens his mouth to say something but stops himself, his eyes taking in Draco's expression. Draco wonders what the man sees that makes his shoulders sag in resignation.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Draco. I will have to inform the Dark Lord of this turn of events."

Draco shrugs again. It was inevitable and the Dark Lord will be furious, yet Snape can't harm Draco inside the walls of Hogwarts, not if he wants to keep his position as spy. Draco is sure Snape is aware that Draco is betting everything on this card but he doesn't say any more. Instead, the Professor waves him off and Draco gladly leaves the classroom.

Draco doesn't make it more than one floor down to the dungeons before Harry draws him into an empty classroom.

"Is everything alright?"

Draco nods, noting how much distance Harry has put between them. The Boy Who Lived seems to be nervous, all of a sudden.

"Snape knows. Well, he knows that I'm not working on my task anymore. He'll tell the Dark Lord."

"But you'll be safe here, won't you? Snape can't harm you in Hogwarts."

Draco shakes his head. "He knows that. He seemed… resigned, somehow. But I don't know, I've never been able to read him too well."

He looks up to meet Harry's eyes and finds the Gryffindor watching him tentatively. The silence stretches between them until Harry clears his throat and runs a hand through his messy hair.

"Good… I mean, good that he can't harm you. So…" He trails off, eyes darting to the floor briefly as he wets his lips. "Did you… Do you believe what I said this morning? Because, I meant it."

In this moment, Harry seems incredibly insecure and Draco wants to shake him for being this daft yet keeps his demeanour calm.

"How can you love me? I'm the enemy," Draco argues. Harry surely hasn't thought this through.

He shrugs, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. "I don't know, alright? I didn't plan on developing feelings. I just… When you went into Dumbledore's office to tell your mother, I didn't know what would happen and I was… I was scared, alright? Scared that she might object and make you continue working for Voldemort and that he will…" Harry cuts himself off; the "kill you when you fail" doesn't need to be said.

Draco can't do anything but stare at the boy, speechless. Harry really loves him, doesn't he? It is completely unfair, given their situation, and the anger Draco has been feeling ever since this morning eventually bubbles to the surface.

"Fuck you, Potter!" Draco shouts, starting to pace. "Seriously, fuck you, fuck your love, fuck your help and fuck your feelings! Do you have any idea how ridiculous this is? What are you thinking, that we, what, spend the rest of the school year together in ignorant bliss and just smile when I leave for the safe house and you do Merlin-knows-what in your bloody fight against evil? There is a war coming, Golden Boy, and if you haven't noticed we're on two completely different sides! Wasn't what we had enough? But you just have to go and screw this all up and talk about feelings and shite!"

Draco draws a deep breath and Harry takes the opportunity to interrupt him.

"I know all that, Malfoy," he spits out, "and I've been telling myself that but it didn't bloody change the way I feel and I can't just ignore it, not when we shag basically every day! So why can't we enjoy the time we have left? What're you suggesting, that we pretend like this still is nothing more than sex? Well, I can't do that, and I don't think you can either."

"I can! I've been doing it long enough!"

"You daft g- what?"

Harry stares at him and belatedly, Draco realises what he just admitted to and instead of backing down, Draco surges forward. It is way too late anyway.

"I've had a crush on you since I was thirteen, bloody hell! I never thought anything would come of it and even when it did, I figured that would be it, but you kept coming back for more and, fuck, can you be any more perfect, Potter?"

"Perfect?"

"Yes, perfect! You and your perfect body and your altruistic attitude and saving my life and mother's as well even though all I've ever done is taunt you and your damn Gryffindor friends!"

Draco stops himself before he says any more; he is embarrassed enough as it is. Harry is still staring at him as Draco catches his breath. Suddenly, Harry's mouth curls into a huge smile and he takes a step closer.

"So what's the problem, Draco? I love you and you apparently have feelings for me, too. Why does it have to be so complicated?"

"Because it is? I'm a Death Eater, damn it!" Draco grabs his left arm for emphasis.

"You may have the Mark, Draco, but you don't follow him anymore."

"So what? I will never be safe as long as he has power and you won't either. There is a very high chance that one of us or both of us won't survive the next year. And what then?"

Harry's eyes narrow suddenly and his gaze turns sharp. "You're afraid, aren't you? You don't want to do this because you're afraid that you'll get hurt. Well, grow up Draco; you're going to get hurt either way! If we're together or not, it will be hard, so why not make it easier on us now and just… you know. Be together."

Draco opens his mouth to argue but holds his tongue. Harry's argument is surprisingly good and, frankly, Draco doesn't want to fight it anymore. Harry Potter says he loves him and apparently wants a relationship… Draco's father is in Azkaban and won't know about it since his mother is confided to her safe house and can't visit. And come the end of the school year, it is going to be over no matter what happens.

Draco sighs. "What would change?"

Harry shrugs. "I don't know. I don't have much experience with, you know. Relationships. But I guess we can stop hiding? I can kiss you in public?"

"What will your classmates say?"

"What about yours?"

"Blaise is in love with a Mudblood and Pansy is waxing poetry about Longbottom; I doubt they have any justification to call me out on anything I do."

"Don't call her that."

"Well, it's what she is, isn't she?"

"She's muggle born, Draco, alright?"

Draco glares and wants to point out that simply because Draco has accepted the Order's help doesn't mean he subscribes to their notions of equality (because he doesn't), though starting this argument now doesn't seem sensible.

Instead, Draco closes the distance between Harry and him, pushing their bodies together.

"I can take whatever my classmates throw at me, Potter. What about you?"

"Can't be worse than what everyone said during my fourth year. Or when everyone thought I was the heir of Slytherin."

Draco snorts, running his fingers up Harry's arm. "Oh, you brave Gryffindor."

Harry cocks his head, smiling. "It's your brave Gryffindor now."

Draco will never admit to it, but he feels something flutter in his chest when Harry kisses him then, soft and sweet.

Draco indulges him for a long time, gently slipping his hands around Harry's neck, allowing himself to feel and not just ignoring what is going on inside him when he feels Harry's thumb caress his cheek.

Soon, it isn't enough anymore so Draco draws back and slips his right hand down into his cloak pocket to retrieve his wand. He locks the door and puts sound-proofing spells on it, winking at Harry, before he returns his attention to the Boy Who Lived.

Well, his Boy Who Lived, actually.

It's Harry who rolls his hips first, pressing his hard length against Draco's growing erection. Draco thinks about bending Harry over a desk in the classroom when the boy drops to his knees in front of him and deftly works his robes and trousers open until he can pull Draco's cock free.

Harry closes his mouth around him without preamble, working him to full hardness.

Draco can't hold back a moan when he feels Harry's hand on his arse, urging him forward, inviting him to fuck Harry's mouth. Draco starts slowly, pausing for several seconds when he hits the back of Harry's throat, knowing fully well how the affixation turns the Gryffindor on.

Harry takes one hand off Draco's arse and fiddles with his own fly until he manages to slip his hand inside his pants. Draco watches greedily as Harry wanks himself while he takes every inch of Draco, moaning deep in his throat for more.

They both last a ridiculously short time.

After they are both presentable again – although everyone looking at the state of Harry's lips will know exactly what he has been up to – they make their way to the Great Hall to dinner.

They don't hold hands. They don't kiss good-bye when they part for their respective tables either and still, the fact that they entered the Great Hall together seems to be enough to send the rest of the students into agitated discussions.

Draco can hear the whispers following him to the Slytherin table where he is greeted by two stunned pairs of eyes.

"Draco," Blaise starts but he doesn't let him finish.

"Shut it, Blaise. You're dating Granger, you're in no place to talk." Pansy opens her mouth but Draco whirls around, facing her. "Neither are you, Pansy. At least Potter is hot."

"Neville is attractive!" she pouts, crossing her arms.

"And Hermione is the smartest witch in school!"

Draco rolls his eyes and grabs the jug of pumpkin juice, not even deigning the remarks with a verbal answer.

"You and Potter – how did that happen, anyway?"

"Blaise, I'm not giving you any details of my sex life."

"But-"

"No. Forget it."

Blaise throws his hands up. "Alright!"

Thankfully, that is the end of the conversation. Draco glances across the hall to see Harry being accosted by fellow Gryffindors, especially Seamus. Harry's face is turning redder and redder as the bloke talks and Draco doesn't want to imagine what sort of discussion the boy wants to involve Harry in.

Oh Merlin, what have they done.


	8. Fever

Summary: Harry's and Draco's honeymoon phase doesn't last long...

Author's Notes: I realise I have been a little slacking regarding the porn so I'll remedy that :)

XXX

Chapter 8 - Fever

_And the greatest miracle of all_  
_Is how I need you_  
_And how you needed me too_  
_That hasn't happened for the longest time_

_- "Longest Time", Glee Cast_

XXX

Harry pushes Draco inside the Room of Requirement without much finesse, then closes the door even more hurriedly. When he turns around, Draco is already shedding his clothes, cheeks flushed and his arousal tenting his pants.

Harry lunges at the blond, spins him around and shoves him against the stone wall. He is painfully hard by now after a day of teasing. Going public with their relationship was a terrible idea. They could kiss and touch and throw each other heated glances, leave the bite marks and bruises as a reminder of their nights together but it all would only help spark their arousal anew.

Harry yanks his trousers down, toeing off his shoes as he does so and steps out of his pants, kissing Draco fiercely. Once both of them are completely naked, Harry turns the boy in front of him, pushes Draco's chest against the wall and nudges his feet apart with one of his own. Harry presses his erection into the cleft of Draco's arse, which sends a shiver up Draco's spine.

"Should I take you dry, Draco?" Harry whispers in his ear, rutting against the boy who pushes back into the touch, begging to be taken.

"Yes," he pants and Harry doesn't waste any more time. He slides a finger down between firm cheeks and enters Draco swiftly, working a second one in quickly. Harry knows Draco's body inside and out by now, he knows how much preparation is necessary and this time Harry stops after the bare minimum and replaces his fingers with his throbbing cock.

Draco cries out, fingers digging into the wall but he holds still, takes every inch Harry has to offer. He is deliciously tight around Harry and the immobility is killing him, but he wants to make sure Draco is ready for him to move.

He is eventually and it doesn't take much after the day they have had – Draco spills his release against the wall with a cry, Harry following soon after, Draco's muscles clenching around his length sending him over the edge.

They collapse on the floor in a heap of tangled limbs, catching their breath in silence.

"Harry," Draco asks, his voice still rough. "Have we ever had sex in a shower?"

Harry looks up at that and follows Draco's eyes to the door next to the bed that leads to an en suite bathroom.

"I believe not."

"A shame, really." Draco's eyes are sparkling with mischief. Then he is on his feet, raising an eyebrow at Harry who scrambles up to follow him into the bathroom where Draco swiftly flicks the shower on. The cubicle is easily big enough for two people.

"What did you have in mind?" Harry asks and Draco's answering smirk sends a chill through his body.

"Let's get clean and then I thought I'd eat your arse and then you let me fuck your mouth. How about that?"

"Slytherins have the best ideas," Harry positively growls and pulls Draco into the shower.

He can't take his eyes off Draco's lithe body underneath the spray of warm water. He touches every inch of the beautiful boy in front of him, first with his hands, then with soap. Draco's hands on his skin are like fire and Harry feels his cock filling out again in no time at all.

Like he promised, Draco turns him around and drops to his knees, kissing his way down the crack until he reaches his hole. Harry trembles when Draco's tongue enters him, a sensation he hasn't felt often. Draco maps him out, teases, then enters him again, building a rhythm and soon, Harry is pushing back against Draco's face, trying to get his tongue as deep as possible.

Draco takes a hand from his cheeks and brings it to Harry's cock, stroking him in time with the thrusts of Draco's tongue.

Harry comes with Draco's name on his lips and only has a second to gather his bearings before the Slytherin shoves him to the shower floor and thrusts into his mouth.

They both know that Harry can get hard again from this and apparently Draco tries to draw it out, to hold back his orgasm but it's no use. He pulls out at the last moment and coats Harry's face with his come, some of it landing on his upper lip and Harry licks at it greedily before Draco pulls him to his feet and sags against him.

"We should do this more often," he breathes out, his smile so open and genuine that Harry's heart races even faster inside his chest.

He kisses Draco then, sweet and deep, just for the sake of kissing because he is allowed to do that now without feeling guilty about his emotions getting the better of him.

They finish in the shower, towel off and fall into bed.

"Can't we just sleep here?" Draco asks. "The only thing that awaits me in the dungeons is Blaise relating the details of his love life in the hopes of me telling him about ours."

"Why is he so interested?"

"He doesn't see how we ended up… well, here. And I haven't told him. What story did you tell Granger?"

Harry hesitates but figures there is no point in denying it. "She knows the truth. I mean, she's my best friend; she told me about Blaise, too. The official story is that it just happened. Do we need a better one?"

Draco snorts. "What do you want to tell them? You found me lurking around school and seduced me? Or wait, I found you crying in an empty classroom and-"

"Why would I be crying in an empty classroom?"

Draco shrugs. "They're your emotions, Potter. You think of a reason."

"We're not telling people you found me crying in a classroom!"

"What then? Because if you've forgotten, the next IHCC is coming up and Pansy is already planning the after party in our common room. There will be questions."

"So we'll just… say it's none of their business?"

This is met with an unimpressed eyebrow raise.

"Alright, alright. You're the Slytherin, you come up with something."

Draco chuckles, a strand of hair falling in his eyes that Harry strokes back. Their eyes meet for a moment, then Draco's lips curl into a smirk.

"We met on the Quidditch pitch - you were practising, I wanted to as well. At first we ignored each other, then… not so much."

"That could work."

"It's brilliant, Potter, admit it."

Harry smiles fondly at the blond. "Yes, it is."

XXX

Developing a story, it turns out, was a great idea since the first thing Pansy and Blaise announce at the after party is a game of truth or dare.

There are so many participants that the chance of the bottle landing on either Harry or Draco is slim, but Draco wouldn't put it past his housemates to have put a spell on the bottle.

Yet he has already survived a few gruesome hours in the Great Hall at a table with Blaise, Granger, Pansy, Longbottom, Theo, Finnegan and Thomas, so Draco figures it can't be worse than a bunch of Gryffindors asking why he isn't holding hands with Harry or why they are sitting so far apart.

They weren't sitting far apart for that matter; their thighs were touching but the annoying Irish boy didn't see that. Draco contemplated telling him that if Harry and he touched, they would end up rutting against each other like werewolves in heat… but a look from the Boy Who Is Easily Flustered had sufficed to derail that train of thought.

Instead, Draco had settled on, "We don't need public displays of affection, Finnegan" and that was the end of it.

There isn't much room in the circle on the carpet, though, which is why Draco leans his body into Harry's a little more than he usually would have.

Harry seems to like it - if the possessive arm the Gryffindor throws around him and the content smile is any indication. The gesture gives Draco a very warm feeling inside his chest.

As luck would have it, the bottle does land on one of them fairly quickly (Draco narrows his eyes at Pansy) and Harry choses dare, much to everyone's delight.

"Kiss Malfoy. And not just one of those pecks you two give each other in the hallways, there needs to be tongue!" Finnegan, of course. Who else.

Harry takes his time, angling Draco's face gently towards his before he brushes their lips together softly for a moment before deepening the kiss. Draco gives as good as he gets – the poor sods might just as well have a show if they want it – and they only break apart after two minutes of loud cheering and whistling.

In the course of the game, Draco learns a lot more about his classmates than he ever wished to know.

For instance that Parvati lost her virginity when she was 15. Or that Padma had kissed a girl once but didn't like it. Or that Granger has 3,257 books. Literally. Of course the Malfoy library is more extensive, yet Draco can't help but feel a little bit of respect for the Mudblood. He also learns that Finnegan's most embarrassing sexual experience involved a Muggle neighbour and her family's cleaning lady walking in on them.

Draco drains three butterbeers before the bottle eventually lands on him. Having seen the nature the dare option takes (they really are a bunch of hormonal teenagers, aren't they) and Draco has no wish to kiss anyone besides the Boy Who Gives Amazing Blowjobs, he choses truth.

"Very well," Pansy purrs. "Tell us, Draco, how did you and the Chosen One end up together?"

Draco sighs, pretending to be unnerved. Harry can see right through him, judging by the sparkle in his eyes.

"Alright. It was sometime in January. I wanted to practise so I went down to the Quidditch pitch and there was Potter, already trying to catch the snitch and failing miserably. Well, I got up there and waited for an opening and then I snatched it right from under his nose. He wasn't pleased, wanted a rematch… So met more often and every time I caught the snitch, he insisted-"

"Hang on, I caught it more often than you did! It was you who insisted on a re-match!" Harry argues, playing right into Draco's metaphorical hands.

"Last time I counted the odds were 8:11 in my favour, Potter."

"Yeah, and that was a long time ago because you were too busy staring at my chest."

"Well, it's an impressive chest."

Harry huffs and the circle bursts into laughter. Draco smirks, pleased with himself. Everyone is buying into their story without any suspicions.

"You can imagine the dirty details," he tells their classmates, most of whom nod, grimacing, whereas others try to make him go on but Draco cuts them off with a flick to the bottle.

They have half an hour until curfew when eventually everyone has abandoned the game and paired off into smaller groups and nobody notices when Draco whispers in Harry's ear, "Follow me to my dorm in a minute" and makes his way to his bed.

Draco removes his clothes and waits on the bed, naked with a hand on his cock, stroking it to hardness. Harry's eyes turn dark when he sees him. He swiftly locks the door and with another flick of his wand, his clothes are gone as well.

Harry stops at the foot of the bed, taking in Draco's form. Draco's eyes fall on Harry's growing erection which twitches under the scrutiny.

"I want to ride you." Harry's voice is rough with arousal.

"Come on, then." Draco lies back on the mattress, watching Harry prepare himself with two quick spells before he follows, straddling Draco's hips and bending forward to steal a kiss.

Draco watches how Harry lowers himself onto his cock, every inch slowly disappearing between his arse cheeks and it still feels as incredible as it did that first time in the broom shed. They find a rhythm faster, though, both now so attuned to the other's bodies that Draco knows exactly how to tilt his hips to make Harry cry out, make him throw his head back.

He knows they don't have too much time so Draco wraps his hand around Harry's cock, brushing his thumb over the tip at ever upstroke, forming a tight fist just like Harry likes it. He digs the fingernails of his other hand in Harry's hip, deep enough to leave half-moon shaped bruises behind, but it has the intended effect: Harry's rhythm falters and soon, he comes all over Draco's chest and stomach. Draco's eyes rake over the muscles in Harry's torso and how they clench during the orgasm, over the strong thighs next to his hips and with Harry clenching around his girth his own climax hits him a few moments later.

Harry is the first one to move again, cleaning up the mess they made before positioning himself on top of Draco, kissing him in post-coital laziness.

"I should probably go before Hermione notices I'm gone."

"She's eating Blaise's face, I doubt she notices much of anything."

Harry laughs and Draco can feel it reverberating against his chest. Harry's eyes turn soft then and he brushes his lips against Draco's briefly before drawing back enough to look at him clearly.

"I love you. And I'm still going."

I love that he always makes sure I'm not obliged to say it back immediately, Draco thinks as he smiles up at the boy above him and pulls him down into a good-night kiss before Harry climbs off the bed to gather his clothes and leave the dorm.

Draco knows he wants to say it back but he has no idea when the right time is. He has never said those three words to anyone and Harry is the first one to say it to him. His family was never much into avowing their emotions.

He needs to make this right and he will. It is only April; they have three months still.

"Oh no, Draco, you guys did it in here! How can you do that?" Blaise's voice sounds a bit far off - Draco must have dozed off.

"Well, some of us aren't okay with simply snogging all evening. We happen to be insatiable."

"But our dorm, really Draco?"

"Be glad we found my bed," he sneers and is rewarded with a blushing Blaise.

"Next time I'm locking the dorm during parties!"

"Well, sex in the shower is very nice as well-"

"Shut it, Malfoy."

Draco burst into a fit of laughter that only subsides when Blaise has left the room to brush his teeth.

As Draco lies on his bed, breathless from laughing, he realises that he can't remember ever being so happy in his life.

He concentrates on it, the here and now, and shuns every thought of what might happen in a few weeks' time. For tonight, it works and he drifts back into sleep with a smile on his face.

XXX

The next day is a Sunday and the bright sky and promises of summer only add to Harry's good mood.

"Don't think for a second that I don't know what you and Malfoy did last night," Hermione warns him, leafing through an Apparition brochure for her test tomorrow. Harry suddenly wonders if Draco is 17 yet and will be gone tomorrow as well, but since the blond hasn't said anything, Harry would guess Draco doesn't turn 17 until the end of the year either.

"Jealous you didn't come up with that idea?"

Hermione's eyes grow wide and she shakes her head. "It's the Slytherin dorm room! That's gross!"

Harry chuckles but quickly sobers when a young girl in a Ravenclaw uniform stops next to him and holds out a note.

"I was asked to give you this," she says and Harry takes the note.

"Thanks." He waits until she is out of earshot to open the parchment, recognising Dumbledore's handwriting immediately. "Damn, we won't have another lesson until I get that memory from Slughorn!"

"Well, you've been trying, haven't you?"

"Yes, I've tried everything!"

"I'm sure you'll be able to think of something. Or you boyfriend might. Slytherins are quite good in devising plans."

Harry chokes on his pumpkin juice. "Did you really just suggest I ask Draco?"

Hermione seems a bit annoyed with herself, but shrugs. "Why not. You've said it yourself, you've tried anything you can think of and I certainly don't have any new ideas."

Deep in thought, Harry goes back to his porridge, glancing across the hall where the Slytherin table still lacks a certain blond. Harry is still waiting for a response to the letter he sent Sirius and Remus yesterday, finally coming clean about the question who the Death Eater is that he is sleeping with. He didn't tell them every detail - that would have to wait until he sees them in person – but he told them enough to paint a sufficient picture.

When the owl finally lands next to his goblet, Harry is relieved to see it's not a Howler. Dear Harry, it reads in Sirius' script.

Both Moony and I are still a bit shocked, though not really surprised. Please be careful, Harry. You might have trusted him with your heart, but he still bears the Mark and is a member of his family.  
I won't pretend I approve but I trust you to make decisions for yourself.

Harry sighs in relief. He feared Sirius would forbid him to continue his relationship with Draco so this is comes as a pleasant surprise.

XXX

"I pity you," Draco says as he falls back into the sofa in the Room of Requirement with more grace anyone should be allowed to wield. "Even Blaise is complaining about how much Granger is obsessing over the test tomorrow; I can't imagine what it's like for you."

Harry chuckles and sits down next to him. His fingers have a mind of their own for they begin caressing Draco's hand without a conscious decision on Harry's part.

"I've had six years to get used to Hermione before tests, it's really not that bad."

"Well, at least we're only three people in Potions tomorrow."

"You mean, you can't take it either?"

Draco smirks. "What, you don't even know your boyfriend's birthday?"

To hear that word out of Draco's mouth sends a thrill down Harry's spine. "Er, somewhere between May and July?" he probes, making sure to sport an innocent grin.

Draco slaps his shoulder in mock-indignation. "June fifth, you idiot."

"Well, do you know mine?"

"July 31st," Draco answers immediately and seems to be fighting off a blush when Harry can but stare at him in amazement. "Oh, come on, you're Harry bloody Potter, everyone knows your birthday."

"Whatever you say." Still, Harry can't help smiling which only leads to Draco kissing the grin off his face which in turn leads to Draco sucking him off on the sofa and Harry returning the favour.

When Harry can form coherent thoughts again, he remembers the memory and the question he wanted to ask the blond.

"Draco…"

The only answer he receives is a non-committal noise made against his shoulder where Draco's face is currently buried.

"I think I need some Slytherin… Slytherinish? Slytheriny? Well, I need some advice. From a Slytherin." Damn, his thoughts might not be as coherent as he previously though, Harry muses.

At least he captures Draco's attention who narrows his eyes at him, not moving more than necessary. "What is it?"

"Well, I have a job to do. I need to convince Slughorn to give me a memory. It's for Dumbledore."

"You have a task from Dumbledore?"

Harry nods. "He's giving me lessons this year – but only Hermione knows about them, so…"

"I won't say anything. Whom to, anyway?"

Harry can't help it. He trusts Draco without a doubt, no mater what Sirius wrote. "Alright. And I've tried everything, I thought as Slughorn's favourite-"

"- however undeserved –" Draco mutters but Harry ignores him.

"- that it should be easy, but he's been dodging every attempt."

Draco disentangles himself with a sigh and leans back against the other end of the sofa. "Hm, let's see. Have you tried ingratiating yourself with him?"

Harry nods.

"Presents? Oh, no, that would be a tad obvious. Playing the Boy Who Lived Card?"

"I don't know, indirectly perhaps?"

Draco rolls his eyes. "Gryffindors… Let me think."

Harry waits, watching Draco's face as the blond loses himself in his thoughts. Harry can see ideas coming and going in the way Draco's eyes narrow and widen ever so slightly, can see him contemplating in the way he bites his lower lip and it is such a far cry from the posh Slytherin with his mask always in place that Harry met in January. Draco has more colour, too, and isn't nearly as painfully thin as he was back then. He seems relaxed around Harry. Happy even.

_I did this_, Harry muses and feels a fierce rush of pride.

"Of course, it's obvious, isn't it?" Draco's voice pulls Harry back to the present. "Use his own weapons against him."

"And which weapons might that be?"

"You did win a bottle of Felix Felicis that first lesson, didn't you? I guess all you need is a bit of luck. Soften him up tomorrow after Potions and give Felix a try in the evening."

Harry lets the information set in. Why hasn't he thought of that?

"That's brilliant! That could actually work!"

"Well, if you can't see the forest for the trees, Potter, it's your own damn fault."

"Don't be so smug about it, Malfoy, I wasn't successful yet."

Draco smirks superiorly. "Oh, but you will be. Do you want to thank me now or afterwards?" Draco trails a hand down Harry's still clothed chest and Harry can feel his cock stir again.

"What about now and after?"

"I would say that's only fair. Why don't I tie you to the bed and when you've retrieved the memory, we will give the sling another try?"

Harry grabs the hem of his shirt and throws it off, but instead of climbing into Draco's lap, he rises and makes his way to the bed. "What are you waiting for, then?"

Draco doesn't rush after him but takes his time, shedding his clothes though retaining his wand while Harry positions himself on the bed. Ropes wind themselves around his wrists and ankles and he can feel the delicious strain in his muscles.

Draco climbs on the bed and with a mischievous grin he reaches into the drawer of the nightstand and retrieves a toy. Harry stares at the large butt plug.

"I thought I'd have some fun before I fuck you." Draco's voice is low as he slicks up the plug with his wand and Harry gasps as he feels his hole suddenly wet as well.

Draco stretches him at a torturously slow pace, spreading him wide and Harry buckles against the restraints but they won't budge. If anything, they tighten a little.

"Ah, no, Potter. I'm in charge tonight. And you won't come until I give you permission to, do you understand?"

"Yes, Malfoy," he tries to snap but his answer gives way to a guttural moan as Draco's three fingers hit his prostate, keeps massaging it until Harry's cock is leaking and he can only whimper.

Draco seems finally satisfied and pushes the plug in, wriggling it a little so it is fully sheathed in Harry's body. Harry is breathing hard, already feeling his orgasm approaching but he wills it away then suddenly, the plug moves inside him while both of Draco's hands are in plain sight.

Of course Draco would never use a Muggle butt plug.

The Slytherin rakes his hands all over his body, stroking his thighs and pinching his nipples. Harry arches into the touch and then he feels Draco's tongue on his stomach, licking his muscles.

"Your abs are incredible," he murmurs against Harry's skin. He shudders when Draco's tongue wanders down towards his cock but doesn't touch it. Probably better this way – Harry doubts he would be able to hold off his orgasm for long with Draco sucking him off.

Draco picks up his wand from the bedside table again and moves his hand behind his body. Why is he performing the spells on himself when Harry is already stretched and open?

His thoughts must have been visible on his face for he hears Draco chuckle.

"You're going to love this," he whispers close to Harry's ear. He swings one leg over Harry to straddle him and suddenly, it makes sense.

A breathy moan escapes him as he watches Draco lower himself onto his cock, feels the tight heat embrace him at the same time that the plug moves and Harry sees stars from the pleasure for a moment.

Harry doesn't have enough room to move and meet Draco's thrusts; all he can do is lay there and take it, feel the plug move inside him, feel Draco fucking himself on his cock, his hands on Harry's nipples again and he has to force his eyes open to watch Draco staring back at him with pure lust in his eyes.

Harry can feel his climax approaching without any hand touching his cock and he buckles against his restraints again, pleading silently to be allowed to come but Draco smirks and shakes his head, increasing the rhythm.

He can't look at the blond, his body shining faintly with sweat, or else he will come without being allowed to so Harry closes his eyes but it doesn't help, the sensations are too many, they all add to one another and he is almost over the edge when suddenly, Draco stops.

Harry's eyes shoot open and he finds the blond smiling.

"You could come from just a word now, couldn't you?" He drags his fingernails up Harry's torso, merely a promise of pain but it is enough to make Harry shudder. "Spread out underneath me, unable to move, so close to release." Draco leans forward and licks at his collarbone, one hand moving to his own leaking cock. "You will come when I say it."

Harry cries out in pain as Draco's teeth sink into his skin, just above his heart, apparently Draco's favourite spot. He feels a tongue lick at the bruise and he swallows hard.

"Now." Then Draco bites down again and Harry embraces his orgasm as it finally hits him, gets lost in the pleasure of pain and lust.

He opens his eyes just in time to see Draco's body convulse, coming across Harry's body with a low moan.

Draco kisses him, rough and hard while he works the plug out of his body. It leaves Harry feeling empty but the ropes recede so he is able to pull Draco closer until the blond is lying on top of him, the sperm a sticky mess between their bodies.

"That was brilliant."

"Though you might like it as well."

"But this is kind of gross," Harry points out. "What do you say? Shower sex?"

"Always." With that, Draco is off the bed and already disappearing behind the bathroom door.

XXX

On Monday morning, Harry opens the Daily Prophet and promptly showers the title page with pumpkin juice.

"Harry, that's mine!" Hermione scalds him and cleans the paper with a flick of her wand but freezes when she glimpses the headline.

"_HARRY POTTER IN LOVE?_"

The article goes on about a rumour that the Boy Who Lived is dating a student from Slytherin, namely Draco Malfoy.

"How?" is all Harry manages through clenched teeth.

"My guess is that some of the students told their parents in their letters, mate," Seamus volunteers, "and then it's only a matter of time before it spreads to someone at the Prophet."

"Be glad that Dumbledore doesn't allow reporters on school grounds," Dean says and grabs a slice of toast.

Harry groans and tries to drown himself in his goblet.

XXX

Draco has never been glad that is father is in Azkaban – that is, until this day. No newspapers for Lucius Malfoy and no wife to bring him one.

He can feel Snape's eyes on him all through breakfast and lunch, a tingling sensation at the back of his neck reminding him only too well of what would happen if he weren't at Hogwarts right now.

He only hopes that the Order will help his father before the Dark Lord gets to him.

The Boy Who Is Surprisingly Insightful Today seems to read his thoughts and pulls him into a tight hug after breakfast on the way to class.

"It's going to be alright, Draco," Harry murmurs and for a few minutes Draco allows himself to believe him.

Surprisingly it is Professor Slughorn who lifts his mood in the afternoon while everyone from their year is in Hogsmeade for their Apparition test.

"As we're so few, we'll do something fun. I want you all to brew me something amusing!" he declares cheerily and adds with a glance at Harry and Draco, "And no teaming up either!"

Draco chuckles despite himself and immediately consults his Potions book, noting that Harry is doing the same at the desk in front of him. Draco finally settles on something called Jester's Punch which is supposed to make the drinker tell jokes for at least an hour.

"Harry, are you trying to mutilate these peppermint leaves or cut them?" Draco throws at the back of his boyfriend's head which immediately turns and Harry actually blushes.

"Well, it's a bit more difficult than simply squeezing out doxy eggs, isn't it?"

"Sure, but you can be so gentle if you want to… Makes me wonder what the peppermint leaves have done to you to warrant such a rough treatment," Draco drawls with enough innuendo fused into his words that Harry turns an even deeper shade of red and Ernie has a coughing fit at his table.

Draco would love nothing more than kiss Harry, however briefly, but the uncomfortable look that Slughorn throws in their direction is enough to stop him in his tracks.

At the end of the lesson, he has produced a perfect Jester's Punch (according to his own estimation) but of course Slughorn favours Harry's (disgustingly yellow) Euphoria Potion. Ernie is scowling at both of them since his attempt to impress the Professor by inventing his own draught has backfired spectacularly and is currently residing at the bottom of his cauldron in the form of a purple dumpling.

When the bell rings, Draco makes for a hasty exit in order to give Harry a chance to talk to Slughorn alone but seconds after he leaves the room, the Professor hurries after him. Harry appears half a minute later, dragging his feet adorably.

"Cheer up, Potter, you still have tonight."

Harry sighs heavily and forces a smile. "Let's just hope it works."

"It's Felix Felicis, of course it'll work. The only question is, are you up for a mutual hand job before supper or are you not?"

Harry chooses not to answer verbally; instead he pulls Draco into a heated kiss and drags him into the nearest bathroom. If they're quick, their friends might not even notice they are a little late to hear about the Apparition test.

XXX

Harry sags against the wall next to the Gargoyle leading to Dumbledore's office from where he just came, trying to gather his thoughts.

Aragog, the burial, coaxing the memory from Slughorn, viewing it with Dumbledore, the revelation about the Horcruxes.

Thoughts are tumbling over each other inside his head, creating a mess and leaving him seriously confused.

He can't help thinking that he needs to talk to someone, someone he can trust. He needs Draco. He needs Draco and he doesn't even want to question his instincts or wonder whether it is safe to tell Draco anything about what he learned but he needs to clear his head and the only person he wants to talk to right now is a certain blond Slytherin.

On a whim, Harry dons his Invisibility Cloak and makes his way to the Room of Requirement. Instead of a blank wall, though, he sees a door. He knocks briefly before entering and finds Draco sitting on the sofa in front of the fire.

"Harry?" he says, surprised.

"Hi."

"You look… What happened?"

A few steps bring Harry level with the edge of the sofa and he looks down at his boyfriend.

"I don't think I should tell you, but… I want to tell you. Can I trust you to keep a secret?"

Draco holds his gaze for a long time and eventually nods. Harry can't exactly explain why he believes him, but he does with every fibre of his being.

"Alright."

He sits down next to the blond who shifts on the sofa and tugs his feet underneath him in a variation of the lotus position. It's elegant and graceful and Harry smiles.

Draco doesn't press the issue although Harry can see the impatience in the way his jaw works, so the silence stretches until Harry finally takes a deep breath and tells Draco what happened this evening, how he met Slughorn, how they buried the giant spider (Draco looks horrified at the thought of a tribe of Acromantula living in the Forest), how Harry coaxed the memory from Slughorn and how he viewed it with Dumbledore.

"Dumbledore has been showing me memories, Draco. Memories of Tom Riddle before he became Voldemort. Apparently, Tom Riddle decided to make Horcruxes, to transfer a part of his soul into something else and preserve it. Dumbledore thinks there are seven of them and only if all of them are destroyed can Voldemort be killed."

Draco blinks at him, surprised as well as intrigued. "How can you split your soul?"

"By killing. And all anyone has ever done is make one Horcrux, but Riddle wanted to make seven."

They sit in silence for a while and Harry can basically see the puzzle pieces fall into place in Draco's mind.

"Dumbledore showed you all this so you would go looking for them, didn't he? He wants you to seek out these Horcruxes and destroy them all, doesn't he?"

"Two are already gone. Dumbledore is searching; he thinks he has almost found a third."

Draco swallows hard, opens his mouth but breaks off before starting to speak.

"He promised I can accompany him when he finds the next one," Harry whispers, not sure whether to be proud or nervous.

Draco's eyes are unusually wide suddenly, then his expression turns sour. "But – I mean I get that you're the Chosen One, the bloody Boy Who Lived, but isn't Dumbledore asking a bit too much?"

"What do you mean?"

"It sounds to me that hunting Horcruxes is incredibly dangerous. I've met the Dark Lord, I know he won't leave pieces of his soul without very strong protection and Dumbledore actively urges you to seek them out?!"

"Who else is there, Draco?"

"I don't know, isn't there an entire Order of adults devoted to the fight against the Dark Lord? Why does it have to be a bloody teenager to risk his life?!"

Harry jumps up from the sofa, unable to look at Draco when he shouts, "Because it has to be me!"

Harry gazes into the fire as the silence stretches, waiting for Draco's reaction, another question perhaps, or denial. Harry understands where Draco is coming from but it doesn't change the fact that Harry has a mission and it wasn't inflicted upon him. He chose it. As of tonight, he chooses it, bloody hell, who is he kidding, he has chosen it ever since his first year at Hogwarts!

He hears Draco move on the sofa, though he doesn't stand up.

"So that's what the prophecy was about? It told you that you're the only one who can end it?"

Harry nods, still watching the flames.

"And Dumbledore is alright with this? You're not even of age!"

Harry whirls around. "So what? I faced Voldemort when I was eleven and I got away!"

"You were bloody lucky, then!" Draco bites back, rising to his feet.

"Well, my luck hasn't run out so far, has it?"

"What if it does?" There is a new undertone in Draco's voice that Harry can't quite name. "What if your lucky streak ends and you die?"

Worry. Draco is worried, Harry realises with a rush. His chest clenches but he can't afford to pretend the situation isn't as serious as it is, it wouldn't be fair.

"Then I die. As you said, there's still the Order."

"And you're okay with that?!"

"No, I'm bloody well not! Alright? I'm terrified, damn it! But I'd rather enter this war with my head held high and die trying than be dragged into it because if you haven't realised it by now, Voldemort won't stop until he kills me!"

Draco looks gobsmacked, standing rigid and staring at him with wide eyes. Harry watches as the Slytherin tries desperately to school his expression but the worry mingles with something else and he is blinking rapidly now. Draco releases a shaky breath and finally meets his eyes again and if his own grey ones are shining wetly in the light of the fire, Harry doesn't mention it.

"So what, do you have a plan?" Draco's voice quivers slightly but doesn't break.

Harry swallows around the lump in his throat and shakes his head. "I'll have to wait until Dumbledore finds the next Horcrux."

"Better than nothing, I reckon." Draco averts his eyes, studying the carpet.

Harry's chest still feels tight and he takes a few steps towards Draco. When the boy doesn't retreat, Harry closes the distance and pulls Draco into a hug. He rests his head on Draco's shoulder and waits for the blond to relax in his grip.

It takes a while but eventually, Draco's arms circle around Harry's body and pull him closer. They stand there for long minutes and the thoughts in Harry's head finally calm down. It is real; it doesn't merely exist in the confines of Dumbledore's office. He has a chance to defeat Voldemort and they are making progress.

Movement from Draco pulls him into the present again. There are soft lips on his, tentative, gentle lips and Harry kisses back, taking his time. Draco's hands come up and cup his face before they fall to the front of his robes and proceed to work them open.

It's slow and unhurried this time, not at all like the usually so passionate ripping-off of clothes. Harry toes off his shoes and socks as Draco does the same before the Slytherin turns them around and pushes Harry back until his legs hit the sofa.

Draco climbs into his lap, wand in hand – when did he retrieve his wand, Harry wonders, watching his boyfriend perform the spells. Draco raises his body enough for Harry to position his cock and a shudder runs through Draco when he nudges the perineum playfully. Harry's thoughts narrow down to where his cock is engulfed in the now familiar heat of Draco's body and he rolls his hips, eliciting a low moan.

Draco doesn't rush him, seems in fact content with the luxuriously slow pace he is setting but it allows them to kiss and Harry can't get enough of swallowing Draco's gasps while his hands palm Draco's arse.

It's his own turn to moan when Draco's fingers close around his nipples and pinch, hard. Harry arches his back off the sofa and hits Draco's prostate if the sounds he is making now are any indication. Harry does it again and again, finally speeding up, yet Draco keeps working his nipples with his hands while his teeth scrape across his neck.

By the time Harry can feel the heat pool in his groin, they are both sweaty and panting hard. Harry takes one hand off Draco's cheeks and closes it around his cock, timing his strokes with the rhythm of his hips until Draco is a whimpering mess against his chest and spills his release between their bodies.

A couple of more thrusts are all Harry needs to follow him and he sags against the sofa, Draco a comfortable weight in his lap. Harry feels himself soften and the semen dribble out of Draco which is so incredibly dirty that Harry's cock twitches feebly between his legs.

They don't talk when they eventually disentangle themselves and make their way to the shower. It seems the need for words has passed and when Harry kisses Draco good night in front of the entrance to the Slytherin common room, he doesn't say the three words that are at the tip of his tongue because he knows that Draco felt them in every kiss and every touch.

Harry manages to keep his head clear until he falls into bed and is incredibly grateful for a few hours of dreamless sleep.

XXX

**End Notes:** I personally feel really good about Harry telling Draco about the Horcruxes. I hope you agree! Let me know what you think ;)


	9. Remedy

**Summary:** As the school year draws to a close, Harry and Draco make the most of what time they have. It would almost be carefree – if it weren't for Snape's suspicious behaviour.

**Author's Notes: **So, this is it - last chapter of part I! Enjoy :)

Concerning the timeline: The events of the cave take place on a weekday. Mid June. Well, is that before the 15th or after the 15th? I know a lot of people probably don't care about such things but I'm very dedicated to maintaining an authentic timeline so that question irked me. So Harry and Dumbledore travel to the cave on Tuesday, 17th in my AU. So there^^

Also, I hope you like how I let the canon parts flow into the story. So, yes, a few lines are taken verbatim from HBP and they belong to JKR.

Fyi: No idea if Draco took Herbology in 6th year. Let's say he did ;)

XXX

**Chapter 9 - Remedy**

_I finally put it all together_  
_But nothing really lasts forever_  
_I had to make a choice that was not mine_  
_I had to say goodbye for the last time_

_- "Call me", Shinedown_

XXX

Draco is glad he hasn't started eating his lunch by the time the loud band of Gryffindors enters the Great Hall for if he had, he would be sick right then and there.

Katie Bell has returned.

Draco knows his paranoia is unwarranted; Katie didn't see him, there is no way she will accuse him and Dumbledore won't tell. Still, seeing her, seeing a remnant of what he had done – what he had tried to do – makes his stomach turn.

He mumbles some excuse about having forgotten something in his Herbology essay to Pansy and Blaise and is out of the Hall in no time. He only stops when he is in the familiar environment of the dungeons where he somehow is able to breathe more freely.

_Bell is fine_, he tries to tell his racing heart and the guilt weighing down on his shoulders. _You didn't kill her, left no lasting damage. She was smiling when you left._

Draco only notices that he has been clawing at his Mark through the layer of his clothes when a noise down the corridor startles him out of his thoughts. He shakes himself, deciding to retreat to the common room to clear his head for afternoon lessons, and advances down the hallway.

Another noise resonates from a room ahead. With a start, Draco recognises the door – Snape's office. The next moment there are steps behind the door and Draco darts behind a suit of armour, quickly shrouding himself in a concealing charm.

The door opens abruptly, revealing Snape who doesn't look as stoic as he usually does. Draco can see anger and annoyance in the lines on his face. The billowing cloak almost blocks the view of his office but Draco catches a glimpse of the interior. The door to Snape's private chambers at the back has always been closed but Draco doesn't remember the large lock on it from the last time he was in the teacher's office.

Intrigued, Draco gazes after Snape. What is he hiding?

XXX

"So you think Snape is up to something?" Harry asks later that day after Draco told him about what he saw having cast a quick Muffliato so that none of the others would hear.

Not that they would have, anyway. Granger is still scribbling away on her parchment, not even paying Blaise any heed who is trying to grab her attention by turning his vinegar into wine and back again. Neville and Pansy are discussing something plant-related a few seats away and Draco can see that Thomas has abandoned his homework for good in favour of snogging the Weaslette. Theo and Finnegan are in the library, Draco assumes, since his housemate hates to study with other students in one of Hogwarts' sitting areas since these places are never particularly quiet.

Draco spares half a thought to how strange a picture they must make, Gryffindors and Slytherins doing their homework together, before he remembers that his boyfriend asked him a question.

"He was acting suspicious. And I told you, that door wasn't locked. He is hiding something."

"I guess we'll have to find out what."

"You mean, in person?"

"Well, Dumbledore trusts Snape," Harry explains, screwing up his face to show his disapproval, "so going to him won't solve anything."

"What do you suggest? We sneak into his office while he is teaching and try to open the lock?"

Harry shrugs in a 'why not?' sort of way.

"Without a plan to back us up? No way out in case he returns early for whatever reason or no failsafe for when we find out a dark wizard employs more than a mere lock to secure a door?"

Harry opens his mouth then snaps it shut again, eyes wide.

"I figured. Bloody Gryffindors! How come you're still alive, Potter?" Draco's tone is light yet some of the genuine worry he feels manages to creep through nonetheless.

"I have an Invisibility Cloak?" Harry offers, ignoring the comment.

Draco considers their options, mind latching onto the problem quickly and he remembers once again why he feels so at home in Slytherin. Drawing up cunning plans is a specialty of his, has always been, even if his goals might have been mostly motivated by selfishness. Still, he always got what he wanted in the end, no matter if it was a new owl, a broom, a bigger room in the mansion... Simply asking mostly achieved the same in the end, yet scheming was way more fun.

"Give me a few days to research protective and locking charms, then we can check Snape's schedule and break into his office."

Harry snorts, muttering something under his breath that sounds a lot like "Slytherins" yet eventually agrees on the plan.

XXX

It takes them a week until they can carry out their mission, mostly because Harry spends most his time on the Quidditch pitch or devising game tactics with his team mates for the game against Ravenclaw in two weeks' time.

It's not that this cuts much into the research time since Harry doesn't really do that, though when Harry returns, fresh from the showers and still riding an adrenaline high from flying and playing team captain, Draco is never able to concentrate for long before he drags Harry off to the nearest horizontal surface. On one memorable occasion, they even desecrated a wall near the library.

Either way, on the last Tuesday of April they use their free period, which coincides with Snape teaching third years DADA to sneak off. Granger and Blaise throw them knowing glances for they believe Draco is kidnapping Harry for a quick shag and Draco gladly plays into their assumption.

Draco manages to unlock the office door within seven minutes. He might have succeeded in five if Harry weren't pressed up against him underneath the Cloak, distracting him from his task.

Once inside, Draco wastes no time ducking out from underneath the fabric and crossing the room. He examines the lock, runs a few diagnostic spells and curses.

"Damn it. Snape really doesn't want anyone finding out what's in here."

"All the more reason to do it," Harry says, stepping away from the jars holding slimy objects on a wall.

"I won't be able to open this without further research, though."

"You sure?" Harry closes the distance between them and leans forward, inspecting the lock over Draco's shoulder.

Draco sighs, a little exasperated. "Who spent the past week looking into this while one of us was chasing a golden ball?"

"The match will win us the House Cup!"

"I know. It still means that I'm the expert here."

"Alright, alright!"

Draco doesn't need to look at his boyfriend to know he is throwing up his arms in mock-surrender. Draco shakes his head but the fond smile curling around his lips gives him away.

He probes a little deeper, trying to discern the level of protection Snape placed on the door before he is satisfied and turns around. When he does, he finds Harry looking at him with a contemplating expression which never bodes well in Draco's experience.

"I've been thinking," Harry begins.

"Always a dangerous sign, Potter," Draco quips because, well, Harry was asking for it.

Harry's smile, however, turns mischievous. "I guess I'll just have to show you then, Malfoy."

Before Draco can process what is happening, Harry's lips claim his and strong arms pull their bodies together. Kissing Harry must have become a reflex which is the only explanation Draco has as for why exactly he allows the kiss to deepen in the middle of Snape's office when he has no clear idea of how much time they have left before the DADA class is over.

Draco places his hands on Harry's chest, his mind set on pushing him off a bit to voice his concerns, but his hands feel strong muscles and his blood vacates his brain in favour of his cock.

It is only when Draco feels the edge of a desk dig into his lower back that he gathers his wits.

"Harry, stop, do you really think-" he pants but Harry interrupts him with another kiss.

"I think this is a brilliant idea," Harry purrs. "Imagine it. Sex in Snape's office. It's so wrong, I can't wait to do it…" To prove his point, Harry rolls his hips, drawing Draco's attention to his boyfriend's very hard erection.

Harry could take him right here, bend him over the desk, make him come in Snape's office and damn, the thought alone sends a shiver down Draco's spine. He hears Harry chuckle as he bites Draco's collar bone.

"You're sodding wicked, Harry," he curses but crushes their mouths together before he turns around, pressing his arse back against Harry's groin, eliciting a moan for his efforts.

Harry shoves Draco's robes aside and opens his belt and fly, then pushes his clothes down. His trousers and pants pool around his ankles and Draco uses the time Harry needs to take his cock out to perform the spells and seconds later, he feels the tip of Harry's cock breach him. Harry shoves in inch by inch, the glacial pace causing Draco to shiver in anticipation. He still has no idea how much time they have but the knowledge just makes the experience that much more intense.

Draco grips the other side of the desk when Harry's thrusts gain momentum and they have to be careful to avoid knocking things off the desk yet when Harry brushes against his prostate, Draco almost doesn't care.

It is over embarrassingly quickly. Draco stains the front of the desk as he shoots, arse clenching around Harry who follows him over the edge with a moan and collapses across Draco's back.

"You know, we could get expelled for this," Draco gasps when they are pulling up their trousers.

Harry shrugs, battling with his shirt buttons. "No, Dumbledore needs me. I bet we could tell him there was some potion that made us do it."

Draco almost wishes he could be privy to that particular conversation, yet rather opts to remove the stain from Snape's desk than risk exposure.

Once everything is how they found it (apparently a few parchments did fall off the table), Harry throws the Cloak over both of them and they peak out the door, finding the corridor deserted.

As it turns out they have mere minutes left until classes are out which sends both of them into a fit of nervous laughter as they make their way back to the Entrance Hall so they can proceed to Herbology.

Draco has to avoid Harry's gaze for the remainder of the lesson in order to maintain a straight face.

XXX

Harry wants them to try again the following week, yet Draco puts his foot down.

"Do you know how many things could go wrong? It's the week of your big match; I doubt you'd want to get suspended for breaking into a teacher's office."

The Boy Who Defines Stubbornness acquiesces for once to Draco's surprise.

Rivalry between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw has been mounting for several weeks when the day of the match finally arrives. Every student seems to have chosen a side but where most Slytherins are sporting blue scarves on Saturday, Blaise and Pansy have chosen gold and red ones.

Draco's eyebrow disappears into his hairline when he sees his housemates at breakfast that morning.

"Excuse me, but the fools' table is across the hall."

"Says the captain's boyfriend."

"At least I'm wearing the right colours, Blaise."

"I'm supporting my girlfriend's team, as is Pansy here. I'm surprised Harry didn't talk you into magic face paint."

"You're confusing me with Theo."

In fact, Theo lost a bet with Finnegan and has to turn up to the match today with a roaring lion painted onto his forehead. Draco didn't ask what the bet was and frankly, he really has no desire to find out.

"Still," Pansy cuts in, "don't you want to show you're rooting for him?"

"I think you can infer the answer to that question by my lack of blindingly red accessories."

They continue to banter throughout breakfast until they join the masses walking down to the pitch. Granger immediately latches onto Blaise's arm while Pansy snatches Longbottom's hand. Draco shoots Harry a smirk and a wink and secretly relishes the warmth that spreads through his chest when Harry's answering smile is blinding.

Draco spends most of the match watching his boyfriend fly up and down the field on his broom, directing his team and yelling commands. Harry exudes confidence, the Quidditch robes sticking tight to his torso reminding Draco of that moment years ago when he first found the Boy Who Lived incredibly hot.

Granger snickers next to him and Draco raises an eyebrow at her.

"Swooning suits you, Malfoy."

"I don't swoon!" he protests, indignant.

"Then what would you call what you're doing?"

"Admiring the view. Also I'm contemplating what I'll be doing to Harry later tonight…" He trails off, successfully silencing the Mudblood.

Still, he has to admit on second thought, swooning might not be too far from the truth. When he sees Harry in the air, passionate and powerful and oh-so-good, Draco can't help but think how much he cares for this stupid boy who will follow Dumbledore into a war he probably won't win because apparently, fighting the Dark Lord is the right thing to do, even at the expense of one's own life.

It's not the longest game in the history of Hogwarts but it does take a while. Three and a half hours later Gryffindor is leading by forty points when suddenly, every pair of eyes snaps to where Harry is spiralling to the ground, following a tiny golden ball.

Draco grips the railing tighter as he watches Harry's descent and the following ascent as he chases the Snitch across the pitch and around the Gryffindor goal posts. Draco sees how Harry shifts on his broom, propping himself up on one foot and leaning forward. Draco knows what will happen before it does – and indeed Harry lunges over the broom handle at the Snitch that is fluttering just out of reach.

Or has been, prior to Harry's stunt. For a moment, Harry is dangling off his Firebolt on one hand while in the other he is clutching the ball, then in one smooth motion Harry swings himself back onto the broom once more and darts into the middle of the field, right arm raised in triumph.

The crowd roars and Draco finds himself joining in, clapping enthusiastically. He is sure he is is grinning like a fool.

Madam Hooch blows her whistle and the rest of his team mates accost Harry immediately while Hermione brushes past Draco to get down to the field as well.

Draco is more than slightly surprised when she drags him along by the sleeve of his robes.

Harry is positively vibrating with positive energy when Draco reaches him and before he knows it, Harry has swept him up in his arms and swirled him around, claiming his lips while easing him to the ground again.

Draco doesn't draw back after the kiss, distantly aware of some students whistling. Instead, he leans in, brushing his lips against Harry's ear.

"I love you," he whispers, only for Harry to hear.

Harry stares at him in amazement, his smile becoming even wider which Draco hasn't thought possible, and kisses him again. It is so intense, so full of emotion that Draco's knees go weak when Harry releases him in order to step away and accept the House Cup from Dumbledore.

"Let's go!" Harry cheers. "Party in Gryffindor Tower!"

"Are you sure I won't burst into flames when I set foot in your realm?" Draco asks as they make their way back to the castle. "Or that that bloody portrait will let me in?"

"I'm the sodding Quidditch Captain, I'll make her let you in."

So Draco follows the horde of people clad in red and gold and for the first time in his six years at Hogwarts steps into the mystical land that is the Gryffindor common room. Apparently this particular house has a special relationship with the school's house elves for there is a buffet waiting for them as well as drinks.

The night is perfect, Draco thinks later as Harry drops to his knees in an alcove when he is officially bringing Draco back to the Slytherin dorm. He is pleasantly half-cut from the few butterbeers he drank at the party and now there is a talented tongue tracing the vein on the underside of his cock before familiar lips close around his glans.

Harry takes him in deeper and deeper with every thrust and Draco knows instinctively when he can take over, when he can grab Harry's face and simply fuck his mouth while Harry jams a hand down his own pants to wank himself.

Draco's hands wander into Harry's hair, pulling hard, just the way his boyfriend likes it. Harry whimpers around Draco's cock, opening his eyes and meeting Draco's.

The sight of Harry on his knees, lips swollen from being used so roughly and eyes dark with arousal is Draco's undoing. Stifling a moan, he comes and watches Harry's Adam's apple move when he swallows Draco's release.

He pulls Harry up, needing desperately to kiss him and tasking himself in Harry's mouth. Draco wraps one hand around Harry's on his erection and together they bring Harry to completion within a few strokes.

With their heads resting on each other's shoulders, they catch their breath, basking in the afterglow for a few luxurious minutes before they pull their trousers back up and continue their way.

Draco stops them around the corner of his dorm.

"Harry," he whispers into the silent hallway, cradling Harry's face in his hands and looking him straight in the eyes. "I love you."

He needs to repeat the sentiment to make sure Harry knows, to make sure Draco says it now that he has finally found it in him to put his feelings into words.

"I love you, too."

The kiss they share then is tender and intimate and warms Draco's body from head to toe.

"Good night, Quidditch Champion," Draco adds in a slightly teasing tone which earns him a nudge.

Harry walks off and Draco turns the corner. A perfect night indeed.

XXX

Having said those three words changes something for Draco. Where before he was tentatively happy to be with Harry and he would smile more often than usual, suddenly Draco feels a giddiness that borders on the uncanny.

He is in love, is loved in return and sure, thinking about the future makes his blood run cold and incites the wish to be able to cuff Harry to the bed in the Room of Requirement and never let him out again until the war is over.

Still.

When he isn't thinking about the future and choses to live in the here and now, Draco feels so full of energy it's almost bursting out of him.

"Draco, stop grinning, you're scaring the first years," Blaise admonishes Sunday afternoon as they are enjoying the last rays of sunshine. And when Draco says 'they', he means himself, Harry, Blaise, Pansy, Theo, Granger, Longbottom and Finnegan. What an odd group they are. Not that Draco considers the Gryffindors apart from Harry part of his group, they are mere appurtenances.

"How is Draco grinning scaring other students?" Harry asks, turning a page in his DADA book.

"Well, before you two discovered the art of gay sex," Finnegan explains, "Malfoy was so sodding crabby that the younger student fled on sight. And now he's smiling – which is even more scary than you in a bad mood, Malfoy, I have to admit."

"Ha – bloody – ha," Draco sneers. "At least this way, they aren't bothering us."

"And if you all were to shut up and concentrate on your studies," Granger snaps, "we might actually get some work done!"

Theo mumbles something in agreement, quill scratching on the parchment which is resting on Finnegan's back while the Irish boy dozes off and on.

"Please, Granger, you were the only one who took 'Let's study outside' literally." Draco drops back into a horizontal position, his head in Harry's lap while is boyfriend is reading up on next week's DADA topic.

The banter dies down eventually and Draco even manages to finish his Potions essay like he originally intended to.

Two days later his new mood still persists and confident in his lock-opening-abilities, he and Harry break into Snape's office one more time.

Draco sets to work immediately, dismantling layer after layer of security, asking Harry to hand him his notes on occasion, but after twenty minutes or so, the lock clicks and he can push open the door.

What he sees inside the private room stops him in his tracks.

It's a small room, used mostly for storage with a small cot at a wall to their left which looks unused since Snape's own quarters are in another hallway. Most part of the right half, however, is taken up by something Draco is rather familiar with.

The Vanishing Cabinet.

"What the sodding fuck is that thing doing in here?!" he shouts, confusing Harry who of course has no idea what Draco has been doing inside the Room of Hidden Things.

"What is it? Is it dangerous?"

Draco tears his eyes away from the object to look at his boyfriend whose expression darkens as soon as he sees the grim look on Draco's face.

"Listen. You know that the Dark Lord set me a task but I never told you what it was. I…" Draco takes a deep breath, trying to assure himself that Harry won't change his mind after all this time about being with him when he learns the ugly truth.

"He told me to kill Dumbledore. My plan was to create a passage between this cabinet and another one at Borgin and Burkes."

It is fascinating to watch Harry piece everything together. "That's what you told him not to sell? Before the year started? In Knockturn Alley?"

Draco nods. "This one's broken, though. When I told the headmaster, he assured me it would be taken care of, destroyed, so that it won't pose a threat anymore."

"Then what is it doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you, Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy."

If the sight of the cabinet had Draco's blood frozen, the sound of a very familiar voice almost sent him into cardiac arrest.

They turn around slowly as if altering their speed would change the fact that once they face the door, Snape is standing in the doorway, fury high in his face.

"Why are you hiding this here?" Draco asks as soon as his voice has returned to him. "Dumbledore promised me it would be destroyed!"

"Which is what I am doing," Snape states simply but something about the entire situation makes Draco feel uneasy. "Now, care to explain to me why I find you behind two locked doors of my office?"

Harry opens his mouth yet Snape interrupts him. "Never mind, you would only have to explain it once more when I take you to the headmaster. We might as well proceed and save me the burden of listening to your lies."

Snape nods and after exchanging worried glances with Harry; they follow the Professor out of his office which he seals again.

A glance at a clock they pass on the way tells Draco that Snape's DADA class is not yet over – the bastard must have installed an alarm as to alert him should anyone manage to bypass the protections on the door.

The way to Dumbledore's office is long and tensely silent though eventually, the rising staircase carries them upward. Draco muses briefly if their timing is really good or really bad considering that Harry told him that the headmaster spends most of his time looking for other Horcruxes. It all depends on how Dumbledore will punish them and Draco can't make up his mind whether it would be worse should that task have fallen to their former Potions Master.

"Severus," Dumbledore greets, blue eyes narrowing when he glimpses Draco and Harry trotting after the Professor. "Harry, Draco. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"It has nothing to do with pleasure, headmaster," Snape ventures on. "I caught these two breaking into my office and my private chambers there."

Draco sees Dumbledore's eyes widen fractionally for a brief moment. "And what did they volunteer as explanation?"

"I chose not to listen to their lies and bring them straight here."

The wizard nods, turning towards Draco and Harry. "Very well, then. I'm sure you had ample reason for your transgression?"

They exchange quick glances and Draco explains what he saw when he went down to the dungeons a few weeks ago while Harry explains how they researched locking mechanisms. Both carefully leave out the fact that this is indeed the second time they have broken into Snape's office.

"And it never occurred to you, Harry, to come to me with your suspicions first before you began to investigate?"

Draco watches for Harry's reaction for he knows exactly what they were thinking: that Snape still enjoys too much of Dumbledore's trust, that the risk of Dumbledore taking Snape's word for whatever explanation he had was too great.

Harry remains silent; Dumbledore's lips curl into a small smile and Draco wonders if the headmaster and Harry have some sort of psychic link no one else shares but he is pulled out of his thoughts by an angry huff from Snape.

"I demand them to be punished severely, headmaster. They have violated my privacy and clearly have no respect whatsoever for authority which Mr Potter has demonstrated time and time again only now, it seems, it has also rubbed off on Mr Malfoy."

Draco can barely contain his smirk when the implication of Snape's last remark registers though the serious expression on Dumbledore's face stifles any streak of humour he might have found in the situation.

"What would you suggest, Professor?"

Snape considers the pair of them with cold eyes and Draco hopes that he won't make him go into the Forbidden Forest again. Once in his school career is enough to last him a lifetime.

"Detention. With me. Every Saturday until the end of term."

"But-" Harry tries to launch into a protest yet Snape cuts him off.

"You are in no position to argue, Mr Potter. Like your father, you have no respect for the privacy or the authority of other people-"

"Severus."

Dumbledore's admonishment silences any more comments the professor might have had. By the way Harry rolls his eyes, Draco muses this is not the first time Snape has tried to rile him by referencing his father.

"I agree. You will report to Professor Snape for your detention starting this week."

"Professor Dumbledore-" Harry starts anew.

"Harry, my boy-"

"No, alright, we'll serve detention! But it still doesn't change the fact that there is a Vanishing Cabinet in Snape's office!"

"Professor Snape, Harry."

Harry glares at Dumbledore, crossing his arms. Draco swallows and Snape seems equally shocked by such a display of defiance. Dumbledore, however, remains calm as always.

In the end, it is Dumbledore who acquiesces. "I see Draco has filled you in on the details regarding the task he was set?" Harry gives him a curt nod but nothing more. "I have entrusted the Cabinet into Professor Snape's hands to destroy it. As it is, the artefact is very dangerous and not easily demolished. You must believe me, however, that it is indeed being destroyed."

Draco feels anger rising in his throat. What about the Unbreakable Vow? What about Snape's double agent status? How can Dumbledore be so blind and hand the very weapon that might bring on his death to the one man who has every incentive to finish the job Draco has abandoned?

Suddenly, he feels a pressure on his wrist. He doesn't need to look down to see it is Harry's hand, stopping him from speaking up. He meets his boyfriend's gaze. _Later_.

So Draco stays silent.

"Sorry for doubting you, sir," Harry says through gritted teeth yet it seems to satisfy Dumbledore.

"You can go. Severus, a word."

Draco follows Harry out of the office, one last time glancing over his shoulder to taking in Snape's expression yet his mask is as stoic as it always is.

"I wish we could eavesdrop," Harry mumbles as they descend from the office. It's not as if they haven't tried, the trouble is that the door to the headmaster's rooms seems to be soundproof.

They don't need to exchange words to know they are on their way to the Room of Requirement where they can talk privately. Once the door shuts behind them, Draco can't restrain himself any longer.

"That old fool! Snape is playing him, can't he see that? Why should Snape destroy the Cabinet when he has made the Unbreakable Vow to my mother!"

"What exactly do you mean by that?" Harry interrupts his raging.

"It's a kind of magical promise. You swear something and if you don't fulfil it, you die. Snape said he'd made one to my mother but I wasn't sure whether I should believe him." Draco doesn't need to mention that there is no doubt now that Snape was telling the truth. "So what's Dumbledore thinking?"

Harry releases an angry breath. "Snape has him convinced that he can be trusted and no one in the Order even knows why. They all take Dumbledore's word for it-"

"Then they're idiots-"

"Idiots who are keeping your mother safe at the moment."

"And I am grateful for that but it's just – I've seen Snape with the Dark Lord. Apart from Bellatrix, he's his most devoted servant. He won't destroy the Cabinet – he'll repair it."

Harry's expression morphs into one of iron resolution. "Then we'll have to be vigilant. If Dumbledore's blind to the threat Snape poses, we'll have to be extra watchful."

They hold each other's gaze, Harry looking grimly determined, nod and leave the room. They have classes to attend after all.

XXX

May quickly bleeds into June without Harry even noticing how quickly the time flies by. He goes to classes; he studies, does his homework, spends time with Draco, has mind-blowing sex in various places around the castle and suffers through hours of detention every Saturday.

At least Snape allows them to suffer together. Still, copying old school records, especially when stumbling upon his father's or Sirius' names every now and again, is very far from his idea of a nice time.

In the first week of June, Hermione presents him with her findings on Eileen Prince even though Harry doesn't care half as much about solving that mystery as Hermione does. He guesses she is distracting herself from the knowledge that Snape is planning something and that, perhaps, soon chaos will arrive in Hogwarts.

As the days grow warmer, he spends more and more times on the grounds with Draco, often in the company of Hermione, Neville, Dean and their respective partners.

Harry is surprised by the turn his relationship with Ginny has taken ever since it has become public that he and Draco are dating: Apparently Ginny has decided Harry will be her new gay best friend. Ginny getting on very well with Hermione doesn't help either and some nights in the Gryffindor common room, Harry finds himself at the end of a few rants about the girls' boyfriends. Harry supports Ginny through her first break-up with Dean, them making up, their second break-up and them making up yet again, all in the span of a few weeks.

"How come your female housemates don't accost you like that?" Harry grumbles after having to listen to Ginny swoon over Dean for the tenth time in the two days they have been an item again.

"Because I'm a Slytherin and haven't saved the Weaslette from a Basilisk, Potter."

"Yeah, there's that."

To avoid being forced into any more girl talk, Harry kidnaps Draco on Monday evening from the library and positively drags him into the Room of Requirement where Harry crowds Draco against the wall, grinding their groins together until he can feel the outline of Draco's erection against his own through too many layers of fabric.

Harry sinks to his knees and greedily swallows Draco down, yearning to feel his heavy cock in his mouth, hear the whimpers Draco makes when he deep-throats, taste his release when he spills into his mouth.

Harry licks Draco clean, pins him into place and holds him until the aftershocks subside yet before he can consider his next step, Draco hurls him up and pushes him onto the carpet in front of the fire place.

With a few flicks of his wand, their clothes are gone and Harry doesn't need to look to know they are folded neatly on the sofa table. Draco's tongue trails kisses down his body, nails scraping his skin barely hard enough to tease, fingers pinching his nipples a few times.

Draco tongues the slit of his cock, nothing more than a swipe to taste the precome already gathered there, then moves down, mouthing at his balls and Harry curses, clenching his fists into Draco's beautiful hair.

He cries out when he feels his tongue massaging his perineum, working him open slowly before actually breaching the ring of muscle. It has been a while since Draco has taken his time to give Harry a good rimming which makes the experience all the more precious.

Within minutes, Harry is a moaning mess, grinding in a desperate try to get Draco's tongue deeper inside him. Eventually, a single finger joins and knowingly hits his prostate again and again, creating wave and wave after pleasure.

Suddenly, tight heat engulfs Harry's erection. He forces his eyes open and sees Draco, cheeks hollowed, sucking intently, coordinating the twirl of his tongue with the movement of his finger inside Harry.

Harry climaxes with Draco's name spilling from his lips.

"We should shower before we fall asleep," Draco remarks when Harry's mind is a little clearer. His boyfriend emphasises his point with a roll of his hips which draws Harry's attention to Draco's new erection.

Draco fucks him in the shower underneath a steam of hot water and Harry's come is immediately washed away. They decide to curl up in front of the fire, Draco's back against Harry's chest.

"I love how I can feel your muscles this way," Draco told him once when Harry had wondered why they were mostly spooning that way.

Harry throws an arm around his boyfriend, pulling him close.

"I love you," he whispers into Draco's ear because he hasn't said it nearly often enough.

"I love you, too," Draco says, voice filled with hints of awe as if he still can't believe he has said those three words.

Harry mouths Draco's neck, placing soft kisses everywhere he can reach. He strokes Draco's chest with his hand, not intending to go anywhere in fact, but well, they are teenage boys and their bodies have different ideas.

Draco wriggles his arse so that Harry's cock rubs against his cleft invitingly. Harry traces the path with his fingers, teasing Draco's hole for torturous moments without actually entering him.

"Harry, please…" Draco begs and it goes right to Harry's cock. He grabs for his wand and prepares Draco when he finally finds it.

They don't change position; Harry enters Draco while they are both on their sides, bodies pressed together and somehow, Harry feels closer to the other boy than he has ever felt before.

They develop a rhythm that only slightly falters when Draco takes Harry's hand from his hip and places it on his cock. Harry takes his time, grinding slowly into the heat of Draco's body, wanting to draw the moment out forever.

It's a nice thought but it would never work. The desire in Harry's gut spurs him on, makes him quicken his pace, eliciting whimpers from Draco who can't form words other than yes, Harry, fuck me, so good, but it's perfect. Harry's world narrows down to Draco and their joined bodies, and he bites down hard on Draco's shoulder.

The blond cried out and coats Harry's hand with warm fluid. Their fingers intertwine and then, Draco lifts Harry's hand and licks it clean, grinding back, shoving Harry over the edge of orgasm for the third time that night.

They fall asleep like that, Harry's cock softening inside Draco and Harry muses that, should he die tomorrow, he would die a happy man.

XXX

Twenty-four hours later, Harry finds he will come to regret that particular thought.

XXX

Harry is sprinting through the hallways as fast as he can. Everyone else is still at dinner so the castle is deserted and he definitely doesn't expect to collide with another person when he cuts a corner on his way to Dumbledore's office.

Glass shatters and when Harry gets on his feet again, he recognises Professor Trelawney sprawled on the floor, head covered in one of her shawls, sherry bottles strewn across the floor, most of them broken.

"I'm so sorry, Professor, I wasn't watching where I was going," he apologises and helps her to her feet. He tunes out her ramblings about dark portents, omens and whatnot while he cleans up the mess on the floor.

His interest peaks, however, when she mentions Dumbledore.

"What about the Professor Dumbledore?"

Trelawney draws herself up and squares her shoulders. "The headmaster has intimated that he would prefer fewer visits from me," she says, voice hard. "I am not one to press my company upon those who do not value it. If Dumbledore chooses to ignore the warnings the cards show-" Suddenly, she grabs Harry's wrist tightly, her eyes wide. "Again and again, no matter how I lay them out." She produces a card from underneath her shawl dramatically. "The lightning-struck tower," she whispers. "Calamity. Disaster. Coming nearer all the time…"

Harry has to hold back an eye-roll, then indulges a few minutes later when he complains about him not attending her classes anymore and how much Firenze's presence annoys her.

It is only when he realises that she is indeed talking about her interview with Dumbledore so many years ago, the night she made the prophecy about him and Voldemort that he pays more attention.

The following revelation pulls the floor out from underneath him.

"I have to go," he tells Trelawney briskly and storms off, all thoughts of Horcruxes forgotten until Dumbledore reminds him of why, exactly, he was on the way to the headmaster's office in the first place.

Even then he can't contain his anger for long and not unlike the year before, he is standing in Dumbledore's office, shouting at the wizard while the old man remains calm and tells him once again, "I trust Severus Snape completely."

"Well, I don't!" Harry snaps. "And neither does Draco. Snape-"

"Professor Snape, Harry."

"Snape won't destroy the Cabinet, he made an Unbreakable Vow, Draco told me, and he's had enough time to find a way to fix that thing and you're about to walk out of school without taking protective measures-"

"Enough."

Harry falls silent at once; he always does when Dumbledore takes that particular tone.

"Do you think that I have once left the school unprotected during my absences this year? I have not. Tonight, when I leave, there will again be additional protection on place. Please do not suggest that I do not take the safety of my students seriously, Harry."

"I didn't-"

"I do not wish to discuss the matter any further."

Harry itches to contradict him but he remains silent, fearing he has finally crossed some invisible line, that he has squandered his chance to accompany Dumbledore to the Horcrux.

But then the headmaster asks, "Do you wish to come with me tonight?" and Harry immediately agrees.

"I take you with me on one condition: that you obey any command I might give you at once and without question."

"Of course."

"Be sure to understand me, Harry. I mean that you must follow even such orders as 'run', 'hide' or 'go back'. Do I have your word?"

"I – yes, of course."

"If I tell you to hide, you will do so?"

"Yes."

"If I tell you to flee, will you obey?"

"Yes."

"If I tell you to leave me and save yourself, you will do as I tell you?"

Harry hesitates. "I.."

"Harry?"

He meets Dumbledore's pale blue eyes before answering. "Yes."

"And if I, under any circumstances, am made to attack you, will you take action to protect yourself?"

Harry swallows, then nods. "Yes."

XXX

Only a broom would have transported Harry back to Gryffindor Tower faster. Once there, he speeds past a worried Hermione to retrieve his Cloak from his trunk.

He almost collides with Ron in the doorway who is just emerging from their common room.

"Watch where you're going," his former best friend snaps and Harry shouts a quick apology he doesn't really mean.

He fills Hermione in on what is going on, hand her a pair of socks that holds his vile of Felix Felicis inside as well as the Marauders' Map and a note for Draco he hastily scribbled upstairs. He tells her to contact everyone from the DA she can reach and hand the parchment to Draco.

"Under no circumstances let him keep an eye open with you! If Snape succeeds in whatever plan he has, Draco has to be as far away as possible. Please, Hermione, swear to me. I can't go off without knowing Draco will be safe."

She stares at him with fear-wide eyes for a moment, then blinks and catches herself. "I promise, even if I have to jinx him and stuff him in a closet."

Harry smiles at the thought, hugs Hermione tightly and bolts from the common room.

XXX

Draco isn't surprised when Granger appears at their table in the library with a worried expression. After all, he saw Harry receive a note at dinner and rush from the hall – inferring what happened is rather easy.

He is just glad that Blaise and Pansy are still in the dungeon grabbing their books; otherwise he would have been hard-pressed to explain why the Mudblood would seek him out.

"Harry asked me to give this to you." She pushes a folded piece of parchment across the table and Draco picks it up, too curious not to open it at once.

_It's happened: Dumbledore found another one and I'm coming with him. I'm sure S. will use his absence if he's ready to, so please, be careful. Stay in the Slytherin dorm and don't let any intruders see you!_  
_Wish me luck, I'll see you tomorrow._

Draco smiles at the scrawl. Harry must have been in quite a hurry.

He nods at the Mudblood. "Understood."

She nods jerkily. It's as if she is nervous. "Very well. I did have permission to jinx you and stuff you in a closet should you have refused to stay in tonight."

The thought startles a laugh out of Draco. "I'm afraid you'll have to save that for another time."

She raises an eyebrow and swoops off, leaving Draco alone with the note in his hand. Harry must be really worried; otherwise he wouldn't have given Granger such instructions, Draco muses, a warmth settling in his chest. It does nothing to stop the worry and panic from spreading, though.

_Please, Harry. Be safe._

XXX

Harry watches as Dumbledore drinks two more goblets of water. His blue eyes are clouding, it is almost as if he is drawing further and further away from where they are.

Suddenly, Dumbledore draws his wand and raises it. Harry reacts unthinkingly and later will blame it on the adrenaline coursing through his body.

"_Expelliarmus_!" he shouts and almost can't believe it when Dumbledore stumbles and his wand flies out of his hand and into Harry's.

Harry can see Dumbledore's grip on the goblet loosen and he reaches out, grabs it and refills it, ready to make the wizard drink all of it just like he promised.

When he brings the headmaster water from the lake, he also puts his wand back into the man's pockets. Dumbledore isn't a threat any more. It is when he turns back towards the lake that he sees them – an army of the dead rising from the black water.

XXX

Harry's pulse relaxes fractionally when they land on the deserted Astronomy Tower. No body, no sign of struggle, despite the Dark Mark in the sky.

"What does it mean?" he asks, turning to Dumbledore. "Is it the real Mark? Has someone definitely been – Professor?"

Dumbledore is clutching his chest with his blackened hand and for a second, Harry thinks his heart will stop.

"Go and wake Severus," the wizard orders in a weak voice yet his tone is clear. "Tell him what happened and bring him to me. Do nothing else, speak to nobody else and do not remove your Cloak. I shall wait here."

"But-"

"You swore to obey me, Harry. Go!"

Harry holds Dumbledore's gaze for a moment longer before he nods and rushes towards the staircase, intent on opening the door when he hears footsteps on the other side. He takes several steps back, careful that everything of him is covered underneath the Cloak-

"_Expelliarmus_!"

Harry's body stops. He is frozen in place, unable to move and confused – Expelliarmus is not a freezing charm… The noise of wood falling onto the stone floor grabs his attention and he sees Dumbledore's wand rolling away from the man.

Dumbledore has immobilized him at the expense of being incapacitated himself. Harry's blood runs cold – he doesn't even need to look to know who exactly disarmed Professor Dumbledore.

"Good evening, Severus."

The two men stare at each other for long moments. When asked later, Harry won't remember much of the minutes that followed. He recalls that Fenrir Greyback and two other Death Eaters joined Snape soon after he cornered Dumbledore. Harry also recalls and will never ever forget the way the headmaster said "Please" and the way Snape killed the man with a blank expression.

Nor will he forget rushing after them, chasing Snape across the grounds, hurling curses his way and finally finding out who exactly was the Half-Blood Prince.

"C'mere, Harry." Hagrid's voice is trembling.

"No."

"You can' stay here, Harry… come on, now…"

"No."

He remains here, next to Dumbledore's dead body, his pale blue eyes forever unseeing, until he feels a familiar hand grasp his.

"Harry, come on," Draco whispers and draws him to his feet.

They pass through the crowd gathered at the foot of the Astronomy Tower and Harry walks as close to Draco as possible. The thought that his boyfriend is safe, didn't seek out the Death Eaters, wasn't taken to Voldemort, registers faintly through the haze of grief and anger and Harry squeezes Draco's hand.

"I'm taking you to the hospital wing."

"I'm not hurt."

"McGonagall's orders and I don't want to cross her right now."

Harry huffs and follows until Draco draws to a stop in front of the hospital wing. "I doubt they want me in there. I'll be in the Room of Requirement, if you need me tonight."

Harry blinks at Draco, utterly grateful. "I'll come. Just… I don't want to sleep alone tonight."

"I thought so." Draco leans in and presses a soft kiss onto Harry's lips, then walk off.

The next hours pass in a blur. Learning about Bill. Listening to Fawkes. Hugging Lupin and Sirius who were allowed to come for a quick visit. Breaking the news of Dumbledore's death and what exactly transpired to McGonagall and everyone else. Listening to their stories. He is surprised when Hermione mentions that Ron helped defend the castle. His former best friend and Harry exchange quick glances but Harry has no idea if his expression conveys what he wants Ron too see.

Harry follows McGonagall to Dumbledore's former office, refuses to tell her anything about the Horcrux hunt, insists on the students being allowed to stay until after the funeral and finally ventures back to Gryffindor Tower where he suffers through all the questions and makes for an early escape.

He finds Draco lying on his back in front of the blazing fire, staring at the ceiling. The blond doesn't say a word, merely shuffles on the rug and wraps his an arm around him as Harry settles down next to him.

"The Horcrux was a fake," he murmurs.

"What?"

"Someone had already taken it. It was all for nothing."

He feels Draco's lips against his forehead. "Then perhaps it's already been destroyed. One less Horcrux to go."

"You can't be sure about that. I need to find whoever took it and make sure it's destroyed."

Harry watches Draco's chest rise and fall as he sighs. "So you already have a plan."

"Wouldn't call it a plan. I have no idea where to start."

"It'll come to you. Just not tonight."

Harry nods into Draco's chest, closing his eyes as long fingers stroke his hair and allows sleep to claim him.

XXX

Dumbledore's funeral takes place that Sunday yet Harry has to attend it alone, without Draco for Professor McGonagall doesn't deem it safe for Draco to be seen in public like that.

"There is no word on Snape and I can't risk exposing you, Mr Malfoy," she tells them the day after Dumbledore's death.

Draco nods, having obviously resigned himself to his fate. "When will you take me?"

"The sooner the better. After dinner tonight. I'll expect you in my office." She nods at them both before she leaves them be.

Harry winces and knows that Draco shares his feelings of dread. Harry has known this moment was about to come for several months yet now it has arrived he doesn't want Draco to leave.

_Just one more day_, he thinks.

"We'll keep asking for one more day if we start now, Harry," Draco says as if he read Harry's thoughts.

He wants to protest but knows deep down that it's in vain. He squares his shoulders and takes a deep breath.

"Alright. We still have a few hours. Let's make them count."

Seeing Draco's patented smirk sends a shiver down Harry's spine and they race each other to the Room of Requirement. Their shagging that afternoon is desperate, hands wandering everywhere, touching every inch of skin, mouths mapping out the planes of each other's bodies until they lose themselves in a haze of pleasure and need.

They barely make it to dinner and they wouldn't have gone at all if Draco hadn't wanted to say good-bye to Blaise and Pansy.

All too soon, Harry is standing in front of the Gargoyle at Draco's side, holding his gaze.

"Say hello to your mother for me," Harry tries weakly but it makes Draco laugh so he counts it as a success.

"Say good-bye to Dumbledore for me. He might've been a fool in some respects but he saved my life."

"I will."

Silence falls and Harry is grasping at straws, wondering what he can possibly say in a moment like this.

"Please, Potter, I can hear you thinking. Do us all a favour and stop."

Harry laughs despite himself. "Shut it, Malfoy."

He enjoys the sight of Draco chuckling for a few seconds before his expression sobers and he takes a step into Harry's personal space.

"Well, I guess I'll be seeing you when this war is over. Try not to die, understood?"

Harry tries his best at a reassuring smile yet the look in Draco's eyes shows that the Slytherin won't be fooled by platitudes. They are both aware of the risks and dangers awaiting Harry.

"Keep safe. Look after yourself."

A beat, then Draco's lips are on his in one last searing kiss. Harry pulls the boy as close as humanly possible while Draco's hands are on either side of his face. The kiss seems to last forever and at the same time be over in a matter of seconds.

Harry feels Draco's tears on his own cheek right before the blond draws away, turns and give the password.

Harry stops him when he is stepping through the entrance.

"Draco."

Draco stops, remains unmoving for a moment. He turns around slowly and Harry can see the yet unshed tears in the flickering light of the torch on the wall.

Harry drinks in the sight, commits it to memory and smiles when he sees Draco's lips curl into a faint smile.

"Harry."

The three words hang unspoken in the air between them but neither of them feels the need to say them out loud. They both know.

Draco turns back around and steps onto the staircase. The passage closes behind him and Harry is alone in the hallway.

XXX

Draco wipes the tears away before he enters McGonagall's office. Despite how much he is hurting right now, a clean break will be for the best. Harry can concentrate on being the Chosen One; Draco won't have to worry about hearing from him, wondering if Harry is alive, if the Dark Lord has caught him…

"We're flooing to the Three Broomsticks and will continue by portkey." The headmistress' words pull him back to the present. "I'll show you a parchment with the location on it before we approach the safe house. Otherwise it will prove rather difficult to see it."

Draco nods, realising that he will see his mother again shortly. Not for the first time he wonders what the safe house will be like and he is slightly nervous, now that the moment is finally here.

There is only one thing left to do.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Mr Malfoy?"

"Can I ask you a favour?" At her nod, he continues. "Can you tell Harry the location of the safe house? Not as an invitation but as an option for emergencies. When he needs somewhere no one can find him."

The headmistress doesn't seem surprised. "I will. You have my word."

Relieved, Draco reaches for the floo powder, glancing around the office one last time. His eyes land on the Phoenix' former place, currently empty.

Shaking himself, Draco takes a deep breath and steps into the hearth.

XXX

_Call me a sinner, call me a saint_  
_Tell me it's over, I'll still love you the same_  
_Call me your favourite, call me the worst_  
_Tell me it's over, I don't want you to hurt_  
_It's all that I can say, so I'll be on my way_

_- "Call me", Shinedown_

XXX

**End Notes:** So, that's it for part I! I hope you all enjoyed it :) Let me know what you think!

Part II is under way. I will post chapter 1 tomorrow and then update every Saturday. I'll add the chapter here in this fic since ffn doesn't seem to have the option of turning a fic into a series (*ranting-about-the-awesomeness-of-AO3*).

I hope you'll continue to enjoy my story!


	10. Mutation - Chapter 1: New Beginnings

**MUTATION - Sequel to "Virus"**

**Summary:** Living at the safe house is not what Draco expected and one chance encounter will change his life profoundly.  
Harry enjoys his time with Sirius in preparation for his and Hermione's subsequent hunt and in the process solves one part of the riddle of R.A.B.

**Author's Notes: **Yes, I'm back! Sorry about the delay but I had the flu and more importantly, ffn refused to upload my document... But here it goes! Thanks to VernieKlein for being a wonderful beta!

I'll warn you right away, the first chapters will lack in the porn department for obvious reasons. And I can't see Harry going back to something casual with Nathan after everything that's happened with Draco.  
So be patient. I hope, though, that the plot will keep you in suspense! Besides – there are always flashbacks! And Sirius and Remus... (Re-writing canon with Sirius in the picture is fun! Don't understand why JKR killed him!)

Also, part I was written for VernieKlein who wanted a story where I wouldn't have bad things happen to Harry and Draco after they get together. I obliged though I make no promises for part II. Ye be warned. (Spoilers: I'm a sucker for happy endings. Enough said.)

Cookies to everyone who spots the Doctor Who references!

XXX

**Chapter 1 - New Beginnings**

_Time is never time at all _  
_You can never ever leave without leaving a piece of youth _  
_And our lives are forever changed _  
_We will never be the same_

_- "Tonight, tonight", Smashing Pumpkins_

XXX

The sky is growing brighter as Draco watches, overseeing the port from his place on the balcony. It's warm despite the early hour and Draco can hear noise from the harbour; the first signs of life in this strange city.

His gaze wanders to his left, sliding over grass-covered slopes leading up the hill. They are on the Eastern edge of Port Tennant, Swansea, Wales. A Muggle town.

It's not that he expected their safe house to be situated near Magical folk – too risky, they might be recognised too easily. Yet Draco has hoped for a mansion in the middle of nowhere. Instead, when Professor McGonagall took him here last night, he found himself in a small townhouse with actual neighbours.

"There are certain rules you have to follow, Mr Malfoy," McGonagall told him sternly. "Performing magic is to be kept at a minimum and never ever do a spell in front of a Muggle. You may not have the trace on you anymore though we can never be too careful when faced with You-Know-Who."

Draco snorts and hugs his knees as a breeze makes him shiver. As if he has any inclination to interact with _Muggles_…

"Now, your neighbours' memories have been altered; they believe your family has been living here for seven years already and that your father's job has taken him to America which explains his absence. You will go by the surname Mallory for the time being. We can't risk anyone becoming suspicious. Also, your mother has already formed bonds with some of the families nearby – I would urge you to follow her example."

Draco didn't say anything, he merely let his disdain show on his face which caused the headmistress to sigh.

"Mr Malfoy, you are confided to this town for an unknown amount of time. You might have to spend years here. It will be imperative that you get accustomed to the lifestyle of the people surrounding you or you will be found out."

McGonagall left and Draco failed at falling asleep in his new room. The bed was comfortable enough but still unfamiliar and the sheets were cold and empty next to him.

So Draco has spent the past hours watching the moon and the subsequent sunrise, realising after much contemplation that he should stop whining about his situation. It's either the safe house or being captured by the Dark Lord – his situation could be much, much worse.

"Draco?"

"Good morning, mother."

He looks up and smiles. Staying here has been good on Narcissa. She has lost her haunted look, the lines on her face aren't as hard as Draco remembers and she has more colour in her cheeks.

"Did you sleep?"

"A bit," Draco lies without missing a beat.

She draws out a chair and sits down behind him at the balcony table. "I know this is all very new but I think we can enjoy our time here. Give it a chance. At least we still have our house-elves."

Draco chuckles. Five house-elves for this small a house are a tad excessive, yet the alternative would have been killing them since they can't set the creatures free – they know too many secrets.

He and his mother take breakfast in the morning sun, and afterwards, Draco explores the house. He noticed some strange devices the previous night and they still confuse him today. A big machine is standing on a small table facing the sofa so that everyone sitting down will have to stare at it.

Draco approaches it cautiously, wary of hidden traps or dangers. He waves his hand in front of what appears to be a screen yet nothing happens. Tentatively, Draco presses a button – and the machine comes to life.

Draco doesn't scream. He doesn't.

"It's a television." Draco whirls around to where his mother is standing in the doorway, a smirk on her lips. It almost looks as if she is laughing at him. "Watching it is the Muggle's preferred activity in their spare time as far as I can tell. There are some interesting programmes, too. You can learn a lot about Muggles by watching it."

Draco nods, eyebrows raised high, and presses the button again which silences the apparatus, thank Merlin.

Narcissa proceeds to show him even more Muggle technology. There is a radio, which works almost exactly like a magical one, a machine that produces coffee, a plastic kettle to boil water for tea something called a telephone which apparently is how Muggles communicate since they don't have a floo network.

Everything runs on electricity, especially the lights. Draco has to admit he is intrigued. Muggles seem to have found an alternative for Magic.

XXX

The following days are a blur to Draco. Narcissa takes him out shopping for Muggle clothes and the currency is confusing and the coins and bills are ugly. At least he obtains smart clothes: several suits that fit him like a second skin, dress shirts, some t-shirts and jumpers as well as a few pairs of something called jeans which he remembers Harry referencing once.

Draco has to concede that he does look good in them.

His mother also insists on buying him a mobile phone. The idea horrifies him a little yet Narcissa tells him, "Everyone who can afford them has them."

Draco still doesn't trust the TV, which is why he turns to the books his mother salvaged from the Manor. She only managed to bring a fraction of their library but was careful to take the most valuable and illegal copies.

Draco has been counting on this because ever since Harry told him about Horcruxes; Draco has been itching to do research on this particular topic.

The last two weeks of June pass in this manner before Draco has to face another challenge.

"I invited the Smiths and Pearsons over for tea on Sunday," Narcissa informs him Saturday at breakfast.

"Why?"

"They want to welcome you back from school, Draco. Don't forget, they believe they have known you for several years. Not well, admittedly, but they are aware of your existence."

"Do I have to be there?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, do you have any pressing appointments that slipped my mind?"

Draco scowls into his coffee.

XXX

He survives tea though it is a close call. He almost died of boredom. The two married couples remind Draco of some of his mother's high-class Wizarding friends and the conversational topics correspond accordingly.

After one and a half hours of "Have you heard what she did" or "Did you see" or "You won't believe what" Draco excuses himself and is promptly kissed on the cheek by both Mrs Smith and Mrs Pearson.

"You've grown into such a handsome young man, Draco."

"I'm sure you're a right heart-breaker, aren't you? Your boarding school is co-ed, isn't it? Anyone special to write to during the summer?"

"Not anymore," Draco replies curtly and flees after another quick apology.

XXX

When Harry sees Sirius again for the first time after Christmas, it's not as a big dog at King's Cross but in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, cooking supper for the three of them.

His godfather breaks into a wide grin when he catches sight of Harry in the doorframe and steps closer, pulling Harry into a hug. Harry notes that Sirius is a little thinner than the last time he saw him and hopes it is due to the solitude of his family's house, not to anything else.

"It's great to have you back, Harry."

"It's great to be back," Harry answers and accepts a bowl of salad to carry into the dining room.

They manage to get through dinner without mentioning Draco, Dumbledore's death or Harry's involvement in everything while instead they talk about less touchy subjects like Sirius' mission to make Grimmauld Place more liveable (his mother's portrait is still hanging firmly in its place yet apparently, the other rooms have much improved) or that Hermione is dating Zabini.

"Let's take this to the living room, shall we?" Remus suggests and Sirius tells Kreacher to get them some drinks. Harry has never been so glad for alcohol.

"So," Sirius starts and trails off, apparently unsure of where to begin. "You and Draco Malfoy. How did that happen?"

Harry decided, somewhere between Draco leaving, Ron and him exchanging insecure glances at the funeral and Hermione swearing she will stand by Harry until the very end, that it will be best to simply tell his godfather the entire truth. He doesn't want to keep secrets from Sirius, not when there is a war coming and Harry has to join right in.

So he recounts the true story of how Draco and he met, how Harry found out, how their relationship developed, how they organised the safe house and how they parted the day after Dumbledore died.

Sirius doesn't say anything throughout his tale, though his face shows his thoughts clearly. Right now, Harry would almost describe it as rueful.

"You've fallen in love with that git, haven't you?"

Harry shrugs helplessly.

"Does he love you back?"

Harry nods, a smile ghosting around his lips and Sirius' expressions smoothens out.

"Good. And seeing as he didn't betray you in the end, I'm much more inclined to accept this."

"There is no 'this'," Harry mumbles.

"What?"

Harry draws a shaky breath, fighting off the emotion still high in his chest whenever he thinks about it. "I'm not going to see him again, not while the war is still raging."

Sirius remains silent for a minute, then suddenly puts his arms around Harry in a heartfelt embrace. Sirius holds him until Harry isn't shaking anymore, until he feels strong enough to lean back and wipe his cheeks dry.

Harry is eternally grateful that he doesn't need to put into words what he is feeling, that his godfather seems to understand without being told.

Looking around, he notices that Remus left the room. Even better – Dumbledore asked him not to tell anyone about the Horcruxes but he doesn't want to keep it from Sirius. Asking Remus to leave would have been unpleasant.

"There's something else I need to tell you about," Harry begins and manages to explain everything up to the point where Dumbledore and he left for the cave before Remus knocks on the door.

"It's getting late, I'm off to bed," he says. They bid him good night and Harry can't stifle a yawn.

"You should be, too, Harry. You can tell me the rest tomorrow, alright?"

XXX

The next day, Remus is away on Order business and Sirius presents Harry with a few thick volumes when he comes down to breakfast. Well, strictly speaking it may be lunchtime but in Harry's mind, it's still breakfast.

"What are those?"

"Books," Sirius replies, deadpan. Harry raises his eyebrows. "Well, not just any books. Defensive spells, some about Dark Magic. I figured if you're going to hunt Horcruxes, you might want to prepare yourself."

All thoughts of tea or food forgotten, Harry grabs the copy on top of the pile. It looks ancient, the binding broken in several places, the parchment yellow with time.

"Where did you find these?"

Sirius smirks. "The Black library. Quite extensive, really. Most of the things in there are illegal, so there might be even more useful books in there."

"This is brilliant!"

Harry spends the meal leafing through the volumes, eager for Hermione's reaction as well as for time to try out some of the spells, yet he still has a story to finish. He even brought the note he and Dumbledore found down with him to show to Sirius.

"So Dumbledore died for nothing?"

"Well, I'm not sure. Someone was already there, but I don't know if they destroyed the Horcrux or not." Harry pulls out the parchment. "This was inside the locket."

He hands it over to Sirius who unfolds it and begins to read. Suddenly, all colour drains from Sirius' face, leaving him pale as a ghost.

"Sirius, what is it? Do you know who R. A. B. is?!" Harry asks, unable to come up with any other explanation for his godfather's behaviour.

Sirius nods slowly.

"Who? Who is it? Where is he?"

"R. A. B. Regulus Abraxas Black. My brother."

Harry stares. Now that Sirius said it, it is so obvious; Harry can't believe they didn't see it sooner.

Then his head snaps up so fast he fears he might get whiplash. "Then the locket might still be here!"

Sirius' eyes widen. "Kreacher!" he bellows and a second later, the elf appears next to them at the kitchen table.

When Harry's heart stops racing fifteen minutes later, they have learned that the locket indeed used to be at Grimmauld Place but that Mundungus Fletcher spent a lot of Order meetings sneaking around the house in search for valuables that Sirius wouldn't miss. Kreacher appeared to be in genuine distress as he told them how Mundungus took his master's beloved locket from him to sell it to who knows whom.

"Find Mundungus and bring him here," Sirius orders and Kreacher disappears with a crack.

"Damn," Harry breathes out. "I didn't expect us to solve this so fast."

"Well," Sirius drawls, "what would you do without me?"

XXX

When Kreacher doesn't return within the next two hours – which Harry spends reading the books Sirius gave him and waiting for a tell-talecrack – Sirius takes pity on him.

"Stop fretting. That tosser of a man has a few tricks up his sleeve; might take a while for Kreacher to find him." Sirius takes Harry's empty teacup away. "Why don't you call Hermione? Didn't you say she wants to help you?"

"Right…" Harry hurries upstairs and finds his mobile phone where he left it last Christmas. Somewhere in the depth of his trunk there's a piece of parchment with Hermione's number on it which she had given him in case of emergencies when owls were simply too slow.

"Hermione Granger speaking."

"Hermione! Hi, it's Harry."

"What's wrong?!" she shouts, immediately worried.

"No, it's good news," he assures her and summarizes the events of that morning. "So now we're waiting for Kreacher to return with Mundungus and then we'll know where the real locket is!"

"That's brilliant!" Hermione really does sound enthusiastic but something in her voice is slightly off. Harry can't put his finger on it, though.

"So, I was wondering," he begins, "do you want to come over? You should be here when Mundungus gets here. That is, if you still want to-"

"Don't be ridiculous, of course I want to!" She draws a deep breath, audible even over the phone line. "I'll be there tonight, okay? I need to say good-bye to Mum and Dad."

She sounds strangely sad.

"Alright. See you tonight, then!"

Harry hangs up, not sure how he is supposed to sort the conversation they just had.

Everything becomes clear once Hermione arrives a few hours later with a suitcase and a handbag. Knowing his friend, she could fit all of her belongings in these two items and hell, she probably did.

Harry stares at her blankly for a few heartbeats. "When you said you wanted to say good-bye… you meant for good."

She nods curtly, blinking rapidly. "It's safest for them."

"And they just let you go off-"

"Don't be daft." Another deep breath. "I obliviated them. As far as they're concerned, they never had a daughter."

"Oh, Hermione…" Harry crosses the space between them and hugs her fiercely. "When everything is over, you'll be able to go back and set everything right," he assures her, at this point in time even believing it himself.

XXX

June has almost ended when Kreacher fulfils his task. Sirius, Hermione and Harry have split the newspaper amongst themselves as the loud crack echoes around the kitchen.

"Kreacher has returned with the thief Mundungus Fletcher, Master."

Hermione disarms the man before he can even draw his wand properly and Sirius tackles him to the floor as he makes to flee.

"What?" Mundungus bellows, writhing underneath Sirius. "Wha've I done? Setting a bleedin' house-elf on me, what are you playing at, wha've I done, lemme go, lemme go or-"

"You're in no position to make threats," Harry says, wand pointed at the man. Sirius eases off the floor and Mundungus sits up carefully while Kreacher explains why it took him so long to apprehend the thief.

"Well done, Kreacher," Sirius tells him after a long look from Hermione who lectured Harry's godfather about the mentality of house-elves and his duty as a Master towards the creature. The memory will make Harry chuckle for a very long time.

"We have a few questions for you," Harry tells Mundungus, who immediately throws his hands up.

"A'right, I took'em goblets! But Sirius, y'never cared about any of the junk-"

"That doesn't give you the right to steal my possessions!" Sirius roars. Mundungus shrinks in size and suddenly, Kreacher is there, swinging a heavy-bottomed pan at his head.

"Call 'im off! Call 'im!" Mundungus screams.

"Kreacher, no!" Sirius calls out and the elf stops, pan still high in the air, ready to strike again.

"Perhaps just one more, Master Sirius, for luck?" he asks and Harry laughs heartily. Ever since Sirius gave Kreacher his brother's fake locket, the elf has been a lot friendlier towards his master.

"We need him conscious, but if he refuses to share his information, you can do the honours," Sirius tells the elf and Mundungus winces.

"A'right, what do you want?" The thief looks up at them defiantly.

"When you raided the house during Order meetings, you took a silver locket. Where is it?"

"Why? Is it valuable?"

"You've still got it!" cries Hermione but Sirius shakes his head.

"He's wondering whether he should have asked more money for it."

"More? That wouldn't have been effing difficult… bleedin' gave it away, di'n't I? No choice."

"What do you mean?"

"I was selling in Diagon Alley an' she come up to me an' asks if I've got a licence for trading in magical artefacts. Bleedin' snoop. She was gonna fine me, but she took a fancy to the locket an' told me she'd take it an let me off that time an' to fink myself lucky."

"Who was this woman?" Harry asks, the grip on his want tightening in anticipation.

"I dunno, some Ministry lag." Mundungus thinks; Harry can almost hear the wheels turning in his head. "Little woman. Bow on top of 'er head. Looked like a toad."

Red sparks shoot from Harry's wand without prompting and he immediately steps back before he can hurt anyone. Hermione appears to be equally shocked by Mundungus' revelation.

"What? Who is it?" Sirius asks finally when no one volunteered any information.

"Dolores Umbridge," Harry explains, glancing at his right hand where the scar is still visible.

Sirius knows the woman only from Harry's stories but it is still enough to make him blanche.

"Out with you," he snaps at Mundungus who disapparates without much prompting after reaching out a hand for his wand. Sirius turns to face Harry and Hermione once the kitchen is theirs only once again.

"Okay, what's our plan?"

"Our plan?" Harry shoots back. "What do you mean, our plan?"

"Well, I can be useful-"

"Sirius, you're not coming with us."

"Only to get the locket from Umbridge-"

"It's too dangerous! She works at the Ministry and you're still a wanted criminal in their eyes!"

"You can't do this alone," his godfather emphasises fiercely.

"He won't," Hermione cuts in. "I'll be there."

"Two teenagers aren't enough-"

"I didn't tell you about the Horcruxes so that you can run off with us and get yourself killed!" Harry shouts but it comes out a tad louder than planned.

"But it's okay if you do it?" Sirius snaps back. "I'm your godfather, I have to protect you."

"Not this time. Do you know how close I got to losing you last year? And that was all my fault! If you'd died, it would've been on my conscience for the rest of my life. And if you come with us now and you don't survive, it'll destroy me, Sirius. I can't lose you. I've lost too many people to lose you as well. So you're going to stay here and stay safe. You're welcome to help us prepare but you are not going on any missions, do you understand?"

Sirius looks like he wants to argue but the words die in his throat. Undoubtedly he is thinking of James and Lilly, of Dumbledore, Harry muses. Harry knows that for once he isn't simply a stubborn teenager, he is right and his godfather better acknowledge it.

"I just feel so useless, locked away in here." It's barely more than a whisper.

"You're keeping Remus safe," Hermione says softly. "All those missions… He looked ragged when he came back two days ago. Without you, he'd go mad for sure."

This earns her a small smile from Sirius.

"And like I said – you can help us with the preparations. The books you gave us are invaluable. We'd be worse off without you, Sirius."

The look in his godfather's eyes is a little less haunted, a little less pained now and Harry hopes that this time will be the last that they have this conversation.

XXX

The days following the tea party, Draco ventures out of the house to explore the streets of Port Tennant and Swansea in an attempt to grow accustomed to his Muggle neighbourhood since, well, McGonagall had a point.

Friday in the late afternoon, Draco forgets time as he lounges in a restaurant and watches the passer-byes, tries to find out what the current trends are in the Muggle world and how people's mannerisms are like.

The sun is setting when he notices he should be going and that, of course, his mobile phone is lying at his desk at the safe house (because really, he hasn't used it once since he got it, what would be the point in taking it along?).

It is rather late by the time he reaches an area he is familiar with – and no, he didn't get lost, he merely took strategic detours – so he speeds up, striding through the darkness between streetlights.

Suddenly, a group of four people emerges from the shadows and block his path. They look like teenagers; all are wearing jeans that are ripped in places though Draco can't tell if they bought them like this or whether the tears stem from excessive wear.

"Where're ya off to, rich boy?" one of them – presumably their leader - asks.

"I don't think that's of any interest to you."

His response sends the group into a laughing fit. The leader is the first to recover. "Can ya be any more posh, mate?"

Draco doesn't know how to respond so he doesn't. The blokes are advancing now and he wonders how he will escape these unfavourable odds without his wand.

"I'm sure a git like ya has a lot a money on ya. Let's see some bucks."

"And if I don't?" Draco asks since frankly, he is a wizard and these are _Muggles_. They stand no chance.

His thoughts come back to haunt him when the leader only shrugs and takes a swing. Pain blossoms across Draco's left cheek and the force of the blow makes him stumble.

"Stop it, Costello."

Suddenly, all attention snaps from Draco to another figure behind him. The teenager standing there is probably younger than Draco, a little taller with short, dark hair and a soft face but a dangerous glint in his eyes.

A movement draws Draco's eyes down. The newcomer is holding a knife in a steady hand. The attackers back away.

"Whatever, Jones. This dim-whit's worthless anyway."

Before Draco can vent his indignation at the insult, the gang is off, leaving him behind with a boy with a knife who merely stares at him. Draco refuses to fidget.

"Well, that could have been unpleasant. I'll be off, then." Draco turns around though it doesn't take more than a few seconds until there is a hand on his shoulder, turning him around.

"Aren't you going to thank me?" The kid has a heavy Welsh accent yet thankfully, it's not thick enough to render his words unintelligible.

Draco wasn't going to but he doubts this Jones will be happy about that. "Right. Thank you for scaring off the crazy kids. I don't know how I would have survived without you," he adds in a sarcastic drawl.

Jones catches up on his tone (apparently he does have a few IQ points on Crabbe and Goyle and recognizes sarcasm) and growls at him – unfortunately not in a good way.

"Listen, rich boy," he seethes, "I know you think you're better than everyone else but this neighbourhood is anything but safe for the likes of you. Costello and his gang would have taken you apart-"

"He's just a kid, I had everything under control," Draco protests.

Jones takes a step back and crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Alright, then I'll let you walk home alone. They're still watching and if they see you without me, they'll jump you again. But don't worry – I'm sure you can handle guns."

Guns. Draco knows about guns, he has seen them on the telly in those Muggle shows. Guns shoot bullets that can kill people and Draco has no clue as to whether magic can help in such a scenario.

The thought of walking home alone suddenly makes his palms sweaty but Jones is already storming off. Draco sprints after him, swallowing a chunk of his pride and dignity as he does so. He doesn't want to apologize to a _Muggle_ and accept the proffered help, yet he wants to die from a Muggle gunshot wound even less.

"Oi! Jones!" As Draco comes level with him, the boy points his knife at him so Draco raises his arms. "Listen, I'm sorry I mocked you. Really." He wants to go on, ask him to escort him home but there is only so much humiliation a Malfoy can take in one evening and his tongue won't cooperate.

Apparently, the apology is enough for Jones. "Fine." He snaps the knife shut and puts it back into the pocket of his ragged denim jacket. "But you owe me one." He looks at Draco expectantly, so he nods. "So, where's home for you, rich boy?"

"Robert Owen Gardens."

"You're even posher than I thought."

"It's called standards," Draco snaps back, falling into step next to the boy.

Jones snorts derisively. "Let me guess, you haven't known anything but wealth your entire life, have you?"

"So? Some families are better than others."

"Some families are better off than others. There's a difference, you tosser."

"Not for me."

Jones looks at him, expression incredulous. "You really think that?"

Draco returns his gaze unwaveringly, though says nothing. He has made his point clear.

Jones barks a humourless laugh. "Fuck, you must be filthily rich."

Draco shrugs. It's true; by Wizards standards, the Malfoys are one of the best-heeled families in Britain. Draco can't fathom where they stand in the Muggle community, money wise. Narcissa hasn't taken everything from their vaults in Gringotts but enough to allow them a comfortable life for the next twenty years. In case of an emergency, there are still the family accounts in Europe.

Whatever Jones reads in Draco's expression makes him grin. "Perfect that you're owing me a favour, then. I'll bring you home to your ma and ta unscathed and tell them how I saved you from the thugs and they'll offer me a brilliant reward, won't they? That's how you lot solve everything, don't you? Throw money at it?"

"So what, you decided to help me because I've got money?"

"Pretty much."

Draco can't help being slightly impressed by this brand of Slytherin logic.

"That's fine with me."

They continue in silence for a while, already climbing up the hill towards Robert Owen Gardens.

"What's your name, then?" Jones asks.

"Draco Mallory."

"Draco? What sort of a name is that?"

"A majestic one," he snaps because frankly, he has heard it all before. "What's yours, then? I bet it's something pathetic."

"Ianto Jones." The boy glares, daring Draco to make a joke.

"Ianto? I've never heard that one before. What where your parents thinking?" he sneers and then stops for Jones' eyes and his entire demeanour have turned icy.

"Shut up, Mallory." He highlights his order by flashing of knife and Draco closes his mouth.

The rest of their journey to Draco's home passes in silence, though at the end of it, Jones doesn't leave. He plants his feet firmly on the ground next to Draco as he fiddles with his keys.

He hasn't even properly opened the door when Narcissa appears in the foyer, freely showing her worry. Once she sees the stranger with Draco, her mask slips back into place immediately though it has a few cracks.

"Draco, where have you been? Are you hurt?" Her eyes are focus on his jaw and Draco remembers the strong right hook he took a while ago.

"It's nothing, mother."

"This bloke got himself into a spot of trouble, ma'am. Would've been attacked by a local gang if I hadn't been there."

Narcissa's eyes turn soft immediately and Draco has to refrain from rolling his eyes. "Oh, thank you! Why don't you join us for supper? I have been waiting for my son here to return. There's enough for the three of us."

Draco wants to protest because inviting a stranger – a Muggle, above all – into their home is ill advised. Ianto will probably only make plans to return and steal their TV.

"That's very kind, ma'am," Ianto says, voice dripping with honey and Draco wants to gag at the blatant act, "but my own family is waiting for me. I'll just be on my way."

"Let me at least invite you over for tea tomorrow, Mr…?"

"Ianto Jones."

"Mr Jones. It's the least I can do."

"Mother, I'm sure Jones has better things to do than spend his time having tea with us. Why don't you give him some money? I'm sure that will convey our gratitude appropriately."

Jones's eyes flicker to him for a brief moment of silent appreciation. Narcissa, apparently, seems to have changed more than Draco previously thought. When before there would have been no question about handing the boy a few coins (or in this case, Muggle bills), she now shakes her head.

"That's too impersonal, Draco. Please, Mr Jones, join us for tea tomorrow. Draco here hasn't made any friends since he returned from school and I'm sure you will get along splendidly."

If looks could kill, both Jones' and Draco's would have. Narcissa ignores their silent protest and through gritted teeth, Jones agrees.

"Wonderful. Give our best to your parents and be careful on your way home."

Jones gives them a fake smile and hurries off into the night. Once the front door is closed, Draco turns towards his mother.

"What was that all about? All he wanted was money! Why couldn't you have given him some and he'd be out of our hair?"

"Draco," she says in a voice she uses when she accepts no protests and Draco sighs inwardly. "You need to find a few friends and this is as good a place to start as any. You'll lose your mind, only being on your own. Give this a chance, that is all I ask."

Draco knows any argument he makes will be futile. His mother has decided and so it will be.

Bloody Muggles.

XXX

**End Notes: **I hope you liked the first chapter! I'm in synch with my AO3 account regarding the chapters already posted, which means...

**UPDATES SATURDAYS** - chapter 2 will be up 7-12-2013. Five chapters are finished, so I'll be posting continuously until Christmas at least.

Fyi, **Ianto Jones** is a character from BBC's Torchwood. This is no crossover but since I have no time at the moment to write Torchwood fics, my Muse decided to explore my own interpretation of Ianto's past in this story.  
So no knowledge of Torchwood is required - but if you'd like to see canon slash and aliens, I can highly recommend it ;)

For those who are interested in trivia like this: I decided on the safe house's location with the help of Google Earth. So if you look at Port Tennant you'll find the street Robert Owen Gardens in the North East ;)


	11. Gains and losses

**MUTATION**

**Summary:** Draco decides to bribe Ianto to appease his mother.

**Author's Notes: **It's amazing how many of my favourite films were released in 1997! Nicolas Cage had a great year, didn't he? (and kudos to the internet for supplying me with this information within 0.005 seconds!)

**Warnings:** minor ch death, alcohol used as coping mechanism and non-graphic domestic violence

XXX

**Chapter 2 - Gains and losses**

_Dear Darlin', please excuse my writing._  
_I can't stop my hands from shaking cos I'm cold and alone tonight. _  
_I miss you and nothing hurts like no you._

_And no one understands what we went through. _  
_It was short. It was sweet. _  
_We tried._

_- „Dear Darling", Olly Murs_

XXX

When Ianto Jones turns up on their doorstep the next day, he is wearing the same clothes as yesterday safe for the t-shirt and the new one at least looks clean.

"Welcome," Narcissa greets him and Draco rolls his eyes. Neither of them wants to be in this situation but somehow, his mother has decided that Draco needs to befriend this very Muggle. Muggle!

"Thanks for having me," Ianto manages, however unconvincingly.

"Oh, it's the least we can do."

Draco snorts. How true, there are so many better options. Throwing money at the boy and never seeing him again, for example.

They sit down, Narcissa pours tea, Ianto nibbles at a biscuit and answers a few questions. Apparently the boy is 16, has just finished fifth form (Draco even knows what that is supposed to mean) and is enjoying his holidays with his family.

"My parents and my sister; she's visiting from university," Ianto clarifies.

"That's nice. My husband is abroad at the moment," Narcissa explains, "for business."

Ianto bites his lips and Draco is sure he would make a derogatory remark about Draco being the spoilt only child yet thankfully, the boy has some manners and refrains from commenting.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Narcissa rises abruptly. "I forgot that I had some laundry in the machine. I think it's done now. Draco, keep our guest entertained, will you?" She fixes him with a stare that brooks no argument, even if Draco is hard-pressed to point out that his mother has never so much as touched the washing machine.

Nevertheless Draco and Ianto glare at each other for three solid minutes before either of them speaks.

"I want to make you an offer," Draco says.

"What kind of offer?"

He sighs heavily. "My mother is set on me befriending you. Now I'm prepared to offer to pay you for pretending to, what's the term, hang out with me. As a friend."

"How much?" Ianto asks immediately and Draco knows he already won.

"Thirty-five a week."

"Seventy."

"Forty."

"Alright, fifty and expenses."

"Expenses? What possible expenses could you have as a friend?"

"Obvious, really." Ianto smirks. "Friends go to the movies, grab a pizza, get ice cream, go for drinks, that sort of thing and your mum won't believe you if we're not convincing. So, you give me fifty a week and pay for all the fancy stuff we're going to do."

Draco considers the Muggle, trying hard not to be impressed. Eventually, he nods. "Agreed. I pay you at the end of the week."

"What about this week? It's Saturday. I'm sure we're going to hang out tomorrow."

"Twenty."

"Thirty."

"Twenty or I'm not seeing you until Monday. Or do you have something better to do? Threatening kids with that knife of yours, for instance?"

Ianto glares, yet accepts the offer.

XXX

Spending time with Ianto is not as tedious as Draco anticipated. The bloke has a quick mind and doesn't hesitate to snap back at Draco and once they discover that they have similar taste in TV shows (not that Draco knows that many, yet apparently, he knows exactly the right ones), they can be found in front of the TV in the living room most days.

On Monday, they venture into the city where Ianto pesters him about watching a film in the cinema. Draco deflects successfully for a few hours until Ianto threatens to break off their deal and he has no choice but to buy two tickets to something called Con Air.

Draco has turned pretending he is used to the Muggle way of life into an art form by now. Still, watching pictures move and people talk on an enormous screen as opposed to their telly strains his abilities.

And he still holds the theory that whoever builds airplanes is, in fact, a wizard since there is no logical explanation for a giant metal construction to stay up in the air for that long.

"Let's go for drinks," Ianto suggests afterwards and Draco groans.

"I've spent enough money on you today! Besides, it's late. I'm sure your parents are worried."

Ianto snorts. "I doubt it."

"Why's that? I bet that Mummy and Daddy and sister are all waiting for their favourite son to return." Draco's can't help the bitterness that creeps into his voice.

"I'm no one's favourite son."

Ianto doesn't elaborate; Draco doesn't enquire further yet files the information away for future references.

XXX

"I want more money."

Draco looks up from his book to where Ianto just appeared in his doorframe. Narcissa must have let him in.

"Why's that?"

"Because. I need more money, so you're going to give it to me."

Draco raises an eyebrow. "How much?"

"Double."

He sighs, puts the book down after marking the page, and rises slowly, holding Ianto's gaze. On closer look, the boy seems almost ill. He is paler than usual and there are shadows underneath his eyes. He also seems to be favouring his right side.

Draco has never seen any injuries but he has glimpsed enough circumstantial evidence to have an idea as to why Ianto never wants to go home at the end of the day and lurks around outside Draco's house long before they are due to meet.

"Listen, Welsh boy. By now, mother is fully satisfied since I made an effort. If I tell her now that we're simply not getting along, she'll accept this and not be cross if we cease spending time together. I'm not paying you double, so you can either leave or stay on a while longer."

Ianto's hands ball into fists and Draco catches an aborted movement towards where he knows the boy keeps his knife.

"I need more money," he insists stubbornly.

"Why?"

"None of your business, Draco."

"Is it because of your father?" he asks, cheering triumphantly on the inside when he sees Ianto wince. "Has he realised that you have a source of income he might tap into? Does he need more money for his liquor?"

"How do you know that?" Ianto shouts, actually drawing his knife now.

"We've been spending time for two weeks now, Ianto. I'm clever. I notice things. It's not too difficult to piece two and two together and find it equals four."

Ianto clenches and unclenches his fists several times, apparently unsure of how to proceed. Draco tries to project anything but hostility. He has no desire to suffer stab wounds.

Finally, the boy lowers the knife and huffs brokenly. "My Mum's sick. Dad needs the money for the medical bills but he doesn't want to pass on the booze. He's been taking the money you gave me. He thinks I'm stealing it."

Draco shrugs for lack of a better reaction. He doesn't really care. Ianto is just a Muggle and why should it be Draco's problem if his father is an utter wanker?

"Then get a job. You're young, I know that you're smart and you have the time."

His suggestion earns him a wide-eyed stare. "Who the bloody hell would hire me?"

Draco looks him over – from the ancient denim jacket and the washed out t-shirt to the ripped jeans and worn sneakers. He arches an eyebrow.

"Looking like that, I'm not surprised."

"Well, what am I supposed to do?"

"Since when am I your career advisor? Since when do I even care?"

"You suggested it!" Ianto shouts hotly. "You brought it up, now back it up."

Draco groans and flops onto his bed, thinking hard and fast. "What do I know; try one of these coffee shops. When we were in there, it was busy and the employees there don't need any talents except remember orders, write names on cups and count the change."

"They'll take one look at me and send me back out."

Draco shouldn't care, frankly. The right thing to say to this _Muggle_ is "I know, but that's not my problem. Get out of my life!".

Which is why Draco has no excuse whatsoever for what he says instead.

"Give me a few days and they'll be begging to hire you."

Ianto splutters gracelessly. "Why'd you do that?"

Good question. Why, for Merlin's sake, did Draco offer?

"I don't have anything better to do. Besides, I never pass on an opportunity to prove my superiority, no matter the field."

Ianto purses his lips. "I bet you were really popular at school."

Draco's face falls for the briefest of moments yet judging by how Ianto's eyes narrow, he saw it.

XXX

Draco takes Ianto into Cardiff that day. He knows a few streets filled with appropriate shops from the trips he took with Narcissa when he first arrived and navigates them efficiently.

They have a good time and Draco enjoys himself, bickering with Ianto over which colour his jeans should have, which shirts to buy, why his denim jacket should be incinerated, and it confuses the sodding hell out of him.

The relationship between him and Ianto is in no way sexual, which is probably what scares Draco even more: He is in the company of a Muggle and Draco feels _comfortable_. They seem to have become friends without even realising it. Or if not friends then something similar.

"Just take the bloody tie, Ianto," Draco orders and holds out the item in question. It took twenty minutes to convince the boy to try on a suit but now that Draco has him in it, he can't stop with just a shirt and a jacket.

"What would I need a tie for?"

"It completes the suit. Future employers will take you a lot more seriously dressed like this than if you were wearing jeans. Besides, what's your problem? I'm paying for all of this after all."

This finally wins him over and Ianto moves to put it on. He fails epically and Draco bursts into a laughing fit. Ianto glares at him for a little while but soon, he, too, starts cracking up.

"Let me show you," Draco tells him and moves closer, grabbing the offensive material and quite thankful the tie binding spell is relatively difficult so he had to learn to do it manually first. Within half a minute, Ianto's outfit is finished.

Ianto stares into the mirror, his expression somewhere between surprise and appreciation.

"Told you," Draco sneers. Ianto punches his arm.

Once Draco is satisfied – which translates into three pair of trousers, ten t-shirts, just as many button-downs, two suits and five ties (since they need to match the shirt, Draco lectures Ianto) as well as a leather jacket (which isn't real leather but still cost a lot more than Draco had intended to spend and buying it just proves how much the denim jacket revolts him) – they go for pizza.

On their way to the train back to Swansea and Port Tennant, Draco stops to pick up a perfume for his mother. As they are leaving the boutique, Ianto shifts and hands most of his bags over to Draco.

"I'm not your house-elf," he scoffs, realising too late what a blunder he made. Ianto, however, doesn't seem to hear him. A second later, Ianto is running off, one bag still in his hand and Draco can but gaze after him.

The security guard hurrying after the boy explains everything.

The Welsh boy finds him twenty minutes later at the train station, still panting for breath.

"Do you often organise footraces with security personnel in shopping centres?"

"Sometimes."

"Why?"

"My mum's birthday is coming up. I wanted to give her something nice."

"Did you get it, at least?"

Ianto grins and produces a perfume bottle from the one bag he is still clutching. They take one look at each other and laugh.

XXX

Since Draco moved into the safe house, McGonagall has visited them twice. The first time was to check on how Draco had settled in, the second was to ask whether Draco could brew potions for the Order, seeing as he has ample time on his hands and even more talent in the subject.

Draco agreed, secretly grateful for something to do, which reminds him on a regular basis that he is indeed a wizard despite his Muggle surroundings.

The headmistress arrives for the third time on July 25th, even before Draco and his mother have started breakfast.

"Professor?" Draco greets her when he reaches the hearth in the living room and sees who it is. Well, since she is the only one who knows of their whereabouts, it isn't that much of a surprise.

His usually so expressionless teacher looks sad, he realises with a shock and before she says a single word, Draco feels his stomach drop. She has bad news, it would seem.

"Ah, good morning, Professor McGonagall." Narcissa comes to an abrupt halt as she, too, sees the look on the woman's face.

"What happened?" Draco asks, not sure if he wants his question answered.

"We should sit down," McGonagall suggests and guides them to the sofa. She takes a deep breath and looks them straight in the eyes as she explains, "You-Know-Who made a move to break out his Death Eaters of Azkaban. The Order was prepared since we knew this was coming and we promised to help your husband and father. Yet I'm afraid…" She trails off and swallows and Draco feels his eyes burn before she even uttered the words. "I'm afraid Lucius Malfoy was killed during the attack."

Silence falls. Draco doesn't need to look at Narcissa to know she is battling tears. At this moment he hates their family more than ever for being so opposed to tears and any displays of emotion. Bloody hell, if there is a moment a woman is allowed to cry it is when someone tells her that her husband died.

Draco's own eyes burn though the tears don't fall. "Do you know what happened?"

"Not completely," McGonagall admits. "The Death Eaters saw that the Order members were protecting Lucius which very likely tipped them off about our plans. Witnesses say it was You-Know-Who himself who cast the killing curse."

Draco's blood freezes in his veins. The Dark Lord was angry enough to kill his father. He could have captured him, punished him for his family's insolence but instead-

Draco rises from the sofa. Three long strides take him to the cupboard, which holds the whisky. Narcissa and he seldom drink; it is – was, Draco corrects himself – his father's pleasure.

He raises an eyebrow at McGonagall, who nods so Draco pours three generous glasses.

They drink in silence.

"I want to offer my most sincere condolences," she says eventually, "as does the Order of the Phoenix. We did what we could to ensure his safety, yet it wasn't enough in the end."

Narcissa nods, the first reaction they receive from her apart from sipping the whisky.

"When the Dark Lord wants to kill, he will get his way." Her voice is shaking and threatening to break. Draco wishes he could hug his mother though she won't like him doing so when company is present. "Thank you for trying."

"Did you lose anyone?" Draco asks, noting that McGonagall's sadness can't stem only from losing Lucius who, after all, doesn't mean that much to her.

She nods. "Alastor Moody."

"Oh. I'm sorry," Draco says for lack of anything better. Not that he is particularly sorry. Moody was a madman who turned him into a ferret once and dedicated his life to catch dark wizards. No wonder he met his end while on the job.

"I'm afraid there are no bodies," McGonagall eventually tells them. At Draco's inquisitive look, she elaborates. "After the battle, we looked for the bodies of Moody and Lucius, yet they were nowhere to be found.

Narcissa whimpers and covers her mouth with a hand. Draco's heart clenches. Of course there is no body, what did his mother expect? That the Dark Lord will make exceptions for traitors?

"Thank you, Professor," he states firmly and thankfully, McGonagall understands.

"I will be back when I have any further news that might be important to you."

Draco nods and walks her over to the fire where she floos off in a swirl of fire. He leans against the mantelpiece and takes a deep breath that refuses to be calming. Another whimper escapes Narcissa and Draco is by her side immediately, pulling her into a tight hug.

There, finally, she allows herself to break down and sobs into his shoulder.

XXX

Draco surveys the port without actually seeing any of the houses, the ships, the sea, let alone the sunset.

Narcissa is in her room; has been for the past few hours and Draco just hopes she accepted the food the house-elves brought both of them. He isn't sure whether the creatures prepared the meals without explicit orders because they wanted to make them feel better or because of some programmed inability to let their masters starve to death.

"There you are!"

Draco turns his head towards the voice. Ianto. Of course, they had plans to meet in Swansea this afternoon. Ianto must have decided to drop by when Draco didn't show.

Ianto stops in his tracks a few feet from where he is sitting on the balcony.

"What happened?"

"My father died." Draco's voice sounds hollow, reflecting his mental state. He has no idea how to feel about Lucius' demise. Or rather, a small voice in his head insists, he knows exactly how he is supposed to feel: guilty. After all, if Draco had been strong enough to complete the task the Dark Lord had set him, his father would still be alive. Maybe not well or in the Dark Lord's favour, but alive.

"Shite. Didn't know his job was so dangerous."

Draco snorts humourlessly.

"Want to talk about it?"

Draco shakes his head.

"What've you been doing all day? Sitting around, brooding?"

He shrugs half-heartedly, wishing Ianto would just go away and leave Draco to drown himself in his sorrow and guilt. And to miss Harry. Draco has tried not to, yet in the state he is in, he can't help it.

"Well, that won't do. Come on, grab a jacket."

Draco blinks up at the boy. "Why?"

Ianto smirks. "You, my friend, are in need of some heavy drinking."

Draco contemplates, sighs, rises to his feet, dusts off his jeans and follows Ianto inside to get his wallet and jacket as well as to write Narcissa a note.

A few hours later, Draco feels seriously intoxicated and tells Ianto as much.

"Bugger intoxicated, mate, you're bloody pissed!"

They are in a pub that doesn't check IDs and on their third pint, not really engaging in conversation since nothing much happened since yesterday which they spent writing Ianto's applications for potential jobs.

"We need shots!" Ianto decides and jumps off his stool, snatching Draco's wallet as he goes off.

Tequila is vile, Draco learns that night, and turns him into a pathetic mess.

"To fathers!" Ianto toasts with their fifth – sixth? – shot. Draco grimaces even a minute after he has downed the liquid.

"You know," Ianto begins, "if it were my ta, I wouldn't mind."

"Don't be daft. It's your father."

"Well, in the world of trust fund poster boys, maybe. But out there in real life, things aren't so simple."

"Please, your life is so uneventful I'm surprised you haven't died of boredom yet."

"Yeah, rich boy, because you're having such a good time."

They fall silent for a bit. It's true – Ianto's life is easy, Draco muses. No Dark Lord, no war coming, no Harry Potter right in the middle of it… Only while Draco may paint the picture that he pities Ianto for it, he actually envies him. There is no way, however, that he would ever tell the boy any of this – apart from the Secrecy Act, Draco is not the type to share his pain.

Well, Harry doesn't count. Potter never counts.

"So what was your ta like?" Ianto seems genuinely interested.

"Strict. Very keen on upholding the family tradition and our image in the public eye. We're rich and powerful in certain circles after all."

"You didn't get to live much, did you?"

"What?"

"Come on," Ianto leans back in his chair, "the first time we went to see a film your eyes almost fell out of your face. Don't tell me you've ever been to a cinema before that. And boarding school? I mean you probably went to some posh little place where they get you ready for Ivy League or something. Can't have been fun."

Draco's throat is suddenly very dry and he downs the rest of his beer before he snaps, "Well, at least my father never hit me." Which is, strictly speaking, true. Draco doubts the Cruciatus Curse counts and then again, it wasn't Lucius who administered it. He just didn't stop it.

Still, it's a low blow.

"Consider yourself lucky, then," Ianto bites back.

Since Ianto is glaring at him, it is Draco who walks to the bar this time to refill their pints. For good measure, he orders two more shots as well. The alcohol coursing through his veins makes all his problems seem distant somehow and just for this night, Draco wants to enjoy the feeling.

"Why does he do it?" Draco asks eventually. He would never understand why parents would do something so cruel to a child. His own family may be twisted and broken in many ways, yet they would never physically hurt him.

Ianto shrugs, not meeting his eyes. "I guess he's disappointed."

"In you?"

"In life." Ianto empties another tequila. "He wanted to be a master tailor but when mum got pregnant with my sister, he had to take a job to support them. He's been at Debenhams ever since."

"So what, he feels sorry for himself because he did what was right for his family and punishes you because you still have all options open?"

Ianto stares at him open-mouthed as if Draco just explained the universe to him. With an audible click, Ianto shuts his mouth again and considers his beer.

Halfway through his drink, Draco realises that the world isn't as stable as it used to be, so he suggests they head home. They walk in pensive silence – which is probably due to the fact that walking takes a lot of concentration at the moment.

"If you could say good-bye," Ianto asks all of a sudden with a slur in his voice, "what would you tell him?"

"Nothing he'd like to hear." Draco sways and would have fallen if Ianto hadn't kept him upright.

The conversation might have continued if not for the sudden wave of nausea that hits Draco and chases him off to a bush at the side of the road. He vomits until it feels like his stomach is trying to digest itself and a hand is rubbing circles into his shoulder.

"Deep breaths, Draco," Ianto tells him, then offers him a chewing gum.

"I hate you," he states yet takes the gum anyway.

XXX

Draco awakes the following day to a murderous headache that feels like a band of Death Eaters are having a Cruciatus Curse practise session inside his skull. He sits up groggily and tries to stretch but instead groans when he discovers that his entire body hurts.

Hogwarts did not prepare him for the Muggle art of drinking.

"Good morning, Master Draco," Liope quips from somewhere near his feet. Draco glances down and could have hugged the elf since she is carrying a tall glass of water as well as a pain potion.

He swallows both the water and the potion and waves to dismiss Liope, yet she hesitates.

"What is it?"

"Master Draco's Muggle friend is sleeping on the sofa downstairs. Liope did not wake him up because Masters told us not to interact with Muggles. But will you want Liope to prepare the Muggle friend breakfast as well?"

Ianto is on their sofa? Draco doesn't remember if he invited the boy to stay or if Ianto simply decided he was too drunk to walk home.

"Prepare us both something and leave it in the kitchen. Bring mother something up as well, will you?"

Liope bows deeply and disappears into the hallway.

XXX

Narcissa enters the kitchen when Ianto and Draco are halfway through he deliciously greasy plates of bacon and eggs. Her eyes narrow when she catches sight of them and probably of how Draco looks.

"Draco, what happened to you?"

He points a finger at Ianto. "Tequila."

"He needed it," Ianto justifies their actions. Draco is surprised that his mother simply accepts this. Hangovers have never been condoned in the Malfoy household. Apparently, there is a first time for everything.

"Ianto," Narcissa says, startling both of them, "for the future, please note that we have a fully equipped guest room. There is no need for you to sleep on the sofa."

The boy gapes unattractively for a few seconds until Draco takes pity on him.

"I think what you're trying to think of is, 'thank you, Mrs Mallory'."

"Thank you, Mrs Mallory."

"Not at all."

XXX

Something changes between Ianto and Draco after that morning and for the love of Merlin, Draco can't even delude himself anymore about the fact that the Muggle teenager and he have become friends.

Ianto helps him select a birthday present for Harry, Draco actively invites Ianto over where they spend the nights watching TV or reading books (since apparently, Ianto spends most of the money he manages to salvage from his father on books and isn't that oh-so Granger of him) and somewhere in between, Draco stops thinking of him as Muggle boy and refers to him as Ianto.

If he wanted to be cynical, Draco would say it is for the better that his father isn't alive anymore to bear witness to this troublesome turn of events.

Yet Draco choses not to think about his father too much, afraid that his guilt will crush him even before Harry's absence will.

Somehow, spending time with Ianto takes Draco's mind off his troubles so if being friends with a Muggle is what it takes for him to escape them, so be it.

XXX

On his birthday, Harry is woken none too gently by Sirius and Remus serenading him awake in a rather awful rendition of 'Happy Birthday'. Well, it is the Celestina Warbeck version, so the awfulness is a given, Harry muses. Actually, Sirius can sing rather well.

"Happy Birthday, Harry!" his godfather cheers and pulls him into a hug that Harry returns heartily once he is a tad more awake.

"Happy seventeenth," Remus chimes in, hugging him as well.

"Come on, Kreacher has decided to cook for an army this morning, let's go eat."

After hurriedly putting on some more clothes, Harry follows them downstairs where Hermione pulls him close and kisses him on the cheek.

Instead of unwrapping presents, Harry opts to eat first since Kreacher is watching him from a corner, eager to see if he did well (it is astonishing how much the house-elf's demeanour changed ever since Sirius gave him Regulus' locket).

When he finally tears open the first parcel, he discovers a new Sneakoscope, curtsey of Hermione. Remus got him exclusive books – "They're not really legal, so don't broadcast it!" and Sirius's present is a golden coin.

"I made it myself," his godfather explains. "I took the idea from the DA coins you told me about, brilliant as ever, Hermione, by the way," he winks at her, making her chuckle, "and refined it a little. I have the other coin and we can send messages, but the thing is that is only reacts to you and no one else. Once you activate it, no one but you can see it. Well, I can integrate Hermione into the spell, so that she could send a message should you … be indisposed at the moment…" Sirius grimaces at the thought and Harry realises Sirius found a way for them to communicate once Hermione and he are on the hunt for Horcruxes.

"Anyway, they are perfectly secure, undetectable and invisible to anyone that isn't the owner. I thought it might come in handy and it's a bit more practical than the mirror I gave you before."

"This is brilliant!" Harry shouts and throws himself at his godfather.

There is one card and one present left on the table. Flipping the parchment over, Harry sees Molly's writing, wishing him a happy birthday and promising him gifts when he comes to the Burrow that evening for dinner (the dinner she hasn't let herself be talked out of, even if Bill's and Fleur's wedding is tomorrow).

Harry's heart skips a beat as he realises whom the last parcel has to be from. Actually, the green – and surprisingly Muggle – wrapping should have given it away.

"Is that from…?" Hermione dares.

"I think so."

Harry is slightly confused when he peels away cello tape instead of spellotape and inside finds a cardboard box sealed in the same fashion.

"Are you sure this is from Malfoy?" Hermione pokes the wrapping Harry discarded with a finger.

"Whom else could it be from?"

Inside the box, Harry discovers a smaller parcel wrapped in the same green paper as well as an honest-to-Merlin post card. It's one of these funny cards one can buy everywhere in Britain which means Draco probably chose it so no one can trace it back to a particular location.

_Happy Birthday!_, the card reads in familiar script. And did Draco use a biro?

_Would love to say more if not for a 'no contact' rule. Mother and I are as well as can be expected. I hope you can enjoy your coming of age before you enter a life in danger._

Then, there are a few words crossed out multiple times which Harry can't decipher, yet the last sentence, squeezed onto the bottom of the card, remains legible.

_Damn it – I miss you._

Harry swallows around the lump in his throat and moves onto the parcel, which turns out to be a pouch the size of a honeydew melon. It's bigger on the inside, just like the bag Hermione has made for them.

Draco, as it would seem, made him a survival kit. There is a large supply of healing and pain potions neatly labelled in Draco's handwriting, magical bandages and plasters, magical flares or torches, a Muggle Swiss Army Knife, another fixed blade knife which seems to be magical and two water bottles with a note, saying "Self-refilling when empty. Charm will last six to eight months."

"Blimey," Sirius breathes out as he surveys the contents. "I guess that boy really wants you to survive."

XX

They spend the day playing Quidditch on a remote field with enough wards around them to stop anyone, Muggle or wizard alike, from spotting them, which is the only way they can spend time outside not only because of Sirius but also because Remus warned them that Voldemort is gaining more and more supporters. Gone are the times when they could wander down Diagon Alley and buy Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes.

That evening at the Burrow, Harry eventually finds out what exactly Draco meant when he wrote he and his mother are as well as can be expected.

"Killed? By whom?" Hermione asks after the topic falls on the mass breakout of Azkaban, which the Ministry is still keeping quiet apparently.

"You-Know-Who himself," Kingsley says gravely. "We didn't see who killed Moody."

"What about a funeral?" George asks.

Kingsley shakes his head. "There was no body to be found."

Harry stares at his new watch, desperately wishing he could contact Draco but sending Hedwig to the safe house is far too dangerous.

Dinner is an amiable affair despite the sad news; Ron doesn't snap at him (didn't get Harry a present either), the food is good, Mrs Weasley and Sirius get along for a change and the impending war shifts into the background for a few hours at least.

Too bad Scrimgeour had to drop by near the end, handing over the snitch, a children's book and a Deluminator. Ron and Harry glare at each other, both fully aware of the implication.

Dumbledore thought Ron would accompany them. Well, they have wands. They don't need Deluminators. Seeing Ron surrounded by his family, laughing with Fred and George, having his hair ruffled by his mother, Harry almost envies him.

XXX

Harry lays awake a long time that night, wondering about the wedding, worrying about retrieving the locket, about Sirius, Remus, the future in general. Draco.

Thinking of Draco always helps better his mood and allows him to drift off to sleep, Harry found. Tonight it is the memory of Draco's birthday, not even two weeks before Dumbledore died.

Finding a present for his boyfriend that was neither too corny nor too impersonal had been a challenge….

XXX

_June 5th, 1997_

Harry contemplates removing his clothes, waiting for Draco naked in the broom shed near the Quidditch pitch yet he is too self-conscious in the end. He merely unfolds the blankets on the ground, performs a heating spell, positions the long, rectangular parcel in the middle of the blankets and sits down behind it, facing the door.

Harry spent long hours wondering what he should get Draco for his birthday and eventually had the perfect idea. He sent Draco a birthday card with nothing more than, "Collect your present after practise in the shed today", which earned him a speculatively raised eyebrow.

Slytherin practise is about to end and Harry's attention refocuses on the door. Sure enough, after ample time has passed for the team to clear out, there is movement in front of the door and someone pushes it open.

Draco is no longer in his Quidditch gear and freshly showered, Harry notices. Grey eyes darken as they fall upon the sight of Harry on the floor.

"Innovative, Potter." Draco smirks and kneels down on the carpet. "Is this my only present?"

"Well, you'll get to use it, if you want," Harry purrs and watches as his boyfriend unties the ribbon and lifts the lid of the box, revealing a work of art and dragon hide.

Draco lets out an appreciative breath. "It's beautiful…" He picks the whip up and caresses the deep green tails while the other hand grips the black hilt. Suddenly, Draco's head snaps up. "How did you manage to get a whip into school? This can't be on Filch's list of approved items?"

Harry chuckles. "I asked my godfather to send it covertly."

"And he agreed?"

"Sirius may not approve of you but he's fully supportive of experimenting in bed."

"Good." Draco rises from the blanket and puts the box aside. "So, are you saying you're willing to help me break it in?"

Harry holds Draco's gaze, licking his lips deliberately. "Just say where you want me."

He notes with satisfaction how the blond swallows, then looks around "Soundproof?" Harry nods. "I'll lock the door. You're going to undress."

The authoritative tone of Draco's voice sends a shiver down Harry's spine and he hurriedly removes everything until he is stark naked.

"Turn around, spread your legs."

Harry complies and doesn't startle when soft ropes wind themselves around his ankles and wrists, pulling his arms up until he can't move. He feels his cock filling as Draco simply lets him stand there, exposed and at his mercy.

Suddenly, there are hands on his back, rubbing him down. "I'll make you come so hard, Harry," Draco whispers in his ear, "without even a hand on your cock. And then, you're going to suck me off. Understood?"

"Yes, Draco." Another shiver chases down Harry's body as the warmth of Draco's body withdraws and he hears an experimental crack of the whip.

Draco starts off slowly, with soft hits across his back, buttocks and thighs, gaining a feel for the whip and not quite taking the edge off but Harry doesn't need to wait long. The first strong welt makes him yelp and strain against the ropes which just don't give. His cock twitches as the second blow lands low on his arse and he can't escape, immobilised.

"You should see your skin, all angry and red," Draco says a few strokes later. "But not red enough."

He increases the strength behind the blows and Harry's breath hitches every time the pain blossoms across his body, setting his nerve endings on fire and pumping more blood into his cock until he looses count of how often Draco hit him and his glans is a deep purple.

A brief pause and suddenly, the ropes shift, giving Harry no choice but to follow their pull. They turn him around, facing Draco who is wearing nothing save a shirt and trousers. His eyes are dark and his cheeks flushed. Harry can see the outlines of his straining erection underneath the fabric of his pants.

"Let's see what it takes to make you come," he purrs and flings the whip with a grace that leaves Harry breathless. Well, the hit on his chest might have something to do with that as well.

Another one hits his abdominal muscles, then his thighs. Working his way back up, Draco steps closer and guides the dragon hide tails over Harry's cock which is rock hard and leaking. The leather is the perfect blend of soft and rough, a mind-blowing sensation on his erection. Harry groans and Draco repeats the movement, then places a welt across his right thigh in close proximity to his groin.

Draco alternates between a lash and caressing his cock and Harry tries the ropes that will never give, gasps and moans in a mess of pain and pleasure until he shudders apart under Draco's administrations, shooting hard, streaking the blanket with his come.

He feels the restraints loosen and falls to his knees in front of Draco, remembering his order from a lifetime ago. His knees protest but all Harry cares about at this moment is freeing Draco's erection.

He strokes it with his hand while his tongue traces the inside of Draco's thigh until he reaches his balls and gently sucks each of them into his mouth. His tongue maps the underside of the shaft, licks across the slit tasting the bitter precome before he finally wraps his lips around the head of Draco's cock.

Draco's orders were to suck him off so Harry changes his approach. Where usually he would try to relax his jaw, take Draco deeper and deeper until all there is is the blond fucking his mouth, Harry sucks, hollowing his cheeks. Soon, Draco's knees are buckling so Harry brings his hands to his hips to steady him, never breaking his rhythm, his mouth sliding up and down Draco's length.

Draco must have been close already for Harry's jaw hasn't even begun to ache when he feels a hand in his hair. Harry pulls back, releasing Draco's erection and wrapping a fist around it instead. He wanks him hard and fast, aiming the glans at his face, knowing this will be what tips Draco over the edge.

They both collapse on the blanket and Harry finally stretches his knees.

"Did you bring the salve?" Draco murmurs into Harry's neck.

"Yes, over there." He points half-heartedly though it must have been enough for short moments later; Draco turns him onto his stomach and begins working the magic salve into the irritated skin on his back. Draco makes him sit up and lean back into him as he does the same for Harry's torso, then pulls him as close as possible, trailing kissing along his neck.

"Thank you."

"You're very welcome."

"Too bad I can hardly tell anyone about the best present I got this year… Although-"

"Don't you dare!" Harry protests, joining into the laughter a moment later when he realises Draco only meant it as a joke.

XXX

**End Notes: **Turns out I can't go too long without an adequate fix of porn :) I hoped you liked it! Reviews make me happy, btw :) (as do Followers and Favourites but I guess that's kind of a given^^)


	12. Transformation

**Mutation: Chapter 3 – Transformation**

**Summary**: The Ministry falls at Bill's and Fleur's wedding.

**Author's Notes**: A few pieces of dialogue directly taken from DH. And British TV in '97? Nothing on except Xena….

Also in this chapter: blatant quoting of canon ;)

XXX

_I've said it so many times_  
_I would change my ways_  
_No, never mind_  
_God knows I've tried_

_- "Call me", Shinedown_

XXX

Head swimming after his conversations with Krum, Elphias Doge and Aunt Muriel, Harry stares off into space until Hermione draws up a chair next to him.

"I simply can't dance anymore," she pants, slipping off a shoe and rubbing the sole of her foot.

Unsurprisingly, Harry catches Ron watching them like he has been all night. Harry can't blame him – even as a gay wizard he has to admit Hermione looks lovely tonight.

"It's a bit odd, I've just seen Viktor storming away from Luna's father, it looked like they'd been arguing-" she pauses, looking at Harry more closely. "Harry, are you okay?"

Harry opens his mouth to reply without really know what he wants to say when suddenly, a silver lynx appears in the middle of the dance floor. Every head in the vicinity turns towards it, couples freezing mid-dance.

Then the Patronus' mouth opens and it says in the loud, deep voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"_The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming._"

All of a sudden time appears to have stopped yet at the same moment, everything seems to be happening at once – Hermione puts her shoe back on and jumps up from her chair, Harry following suit. Light whizzes over their heads as they scan their surroundings, seeing how the guests are running away in a blend of white light and dark smoke.

"Death Eaters!" Harry shouts at Hermione and sees her eyes widen. She grabs his hand and they turn on the spot, colour whirling around them until the world comes into focus again on the doorstep to Grimmauld Place.

They positively fall through the door and Sirius is there, hugging Harry so tight he has to gasp for air.

"What happened?" Sirius asks, pulling Hermione into his arms briefly.

"Kingsley's Patronus appeared," Harry explains, "he said the Ministry has fallen, Scrimgeour is dead and that 'they are coming'. He meant Death Eaters."

"Damn, of course he meant Death Eaters!" Sirius runs a hand through his hair, closing his eyes. "Do you know anything about the others? Did they escape?" Harry can see the unvoiced question about Remus burning behind his godfather's eyes.

Unfortunately, all he can do is shrug.

"Well," Sirius sighs, "let's prepare the dining room. Its protocol that the Order comes here to regroup after something like this happens. We'll need more chairs. And tea. Hell, we'll need something stronger. Kreacher!"

Hermione and Harry exchange tense glances before they hurry after him.

XXX

Soon after the dining room is ready, the first members of the Order arrive and within fifteen minutes, the room is packed.

Harry leans against the wall next to Sirius who has a possessive arm slung around Remus' waist. Harry's thoughts briefly flash to Draco yet he stifles the memories. He needs to focus now; the future of the world as they know it is on the line.

It seems that everyone from the Order is there – aside from Sirius, Remus, Hermione and Harry himself the entire Weasley family including Fleur, Dedalus, Tonks, her mother Andromeda as well as Lee Jordan who probably followed Fred and George into the Order and several teachers.

The door opens abruptly and Kingsley enters, bleeding from a wound at his temple.

"Are you alright, Kingsley?" McGonagall asks immediately.

"You should see the Death Eater," the Auror jokes yet his smile doesn't reach his eyes, Harry finds.

"So it's true? Voldemort has taken over?" Sirius voices what everyone has been thinking, his grip on Remus' waist tightening.

Kingsley nods, sighing gravely. "He killed Scrimgeour personally, though almost no one witnessed it. I've just visited the Muggle Prime Minister to warn him about what is happening on our side and that I'll need to change my appearance if I am to guard him in the future."

"But would Voldemort kill him? Wouldn't that be a tad too obvious?" Harry throws in, frankly a little shocked.

"He might, Harry. I can't imagine what a terrorist attack on their PM would do to the Muggle community, adding to the multiple accidents, catastrophes and murder sprees they've been dealing with these past months."

"So you'll stay on his security detail?" Sirius' eyes are narrowed and Harry can see the worry in his eyes.

"I will. But we need to talk about how the Order will survive. We are at war; everyone needs to be aware of this."

Kinglsey's words send a chill down Harry's spine.

"Well," McGonagall speaks up, "we need to reinstate new headquarters. The risk of Snape finding a way to break in here is too great."

"Our cottage, then," Bill throws in and Harry wonders how long the Order has been preparing for this exact scenario.

"Let me guess," Sirius snaps, "I'm to remain here?"

"It would be for the best," McGonagall answer tentatively. "We can't abandon the house and out there you are too much at risk, Sirius."

His godfather opens his mouth, poised to argue but Remus' hand on his shoulder calms him down enough that McGonagall can continue without interruption.

"Which leaves the question of Hogwarts. Dumbledore wanted the school to stay open, yet frankly, I'm not so sure."

"But they can't do too much to us, Minerva," Flitwick argues. "The Ministry doesn't have that much influence!"

"Yes, and I'm sure most students want to return! It's still the safest place to be," Hermione says hotly. "What are the families supposed to do? Send them to Muggle schools? You-Know-Who will target those first, then."

The argument continues for a few more minutes but to Harry's great relief, McGonagall acquiesces in the end and Hogwarts will reopen in the fall.

"So far, so good." Kingsley's eyes roam the room until they land on Harry. "Which leaves the question of what we are going to do with you, Harry."

Harry clears his throat, suddenly nervous as every head turns in his direction. "I won't be returning to Hogwarts."

"Very wise, Harry."

"Dumbledore gave me a job to do."

"What job?!" Molly cries, a little louder than she probably intended to. Her eyes dart back and forth between Harry, Hermione and Ron.

"I can't tell anyone."

Before Molly can protest, Kingsley has begun to speak. "Is there anything we can do to help? Do you need anything?"

"We have everything we need." Harry's eyes meet Ron defiantly yet his former best friend says nothing. The twins aren't as silent.

"Oi, what do you mean by 'we'?"

"I'm coming with him," Hermione states simply. Fred and George glance at their brother who remains silent.

Sirius coughs, catching everyone's attention. "So now that's settled, we need to start building a resistance, don't we? I'd love to help, but seeing as I'm a prisoner once again, I don't see what I can do."

"You can stay safe and alive," Remus snaps.

"I can fight! I've fought before!"

"You'll just run into danger and where will that leave the rest of us when you're dead-"

"Stop it!" Harry shouts, successfully silencing both his godfather and his lover. "Sirius, Remus is right. You need to stay out of this war for as long as possible. Your time will come. But no unnecessary risks, alright?"

Sirius holds Harry's gaze defiantly for a moment but eventually he backs down.

"Hey," Lee Jorden suddenly tosses in. "We could create a radio programme! Which will be inaccessible unless you have the password."

"Brilliant!" Fred quips.

"Everyone on the show needs code names," George adds almost at the same time as Fred insist, "We need to change location with every new broadcast!"

"Great," Lee beams, "now all we need is a cool name!"

Amazed, Harry watches as the three of them exchange glances, look over at him, back at each other, and then exclaim simultaneously, "Potterwatch!"

Harry isn't quite sure whether he should be flattered or embarrassed. Everyone else, however, seems to think the idea is hilarious so he, too, joins the laughter.

XXX

After everyone has left, having formulated more strategies to keep those safe who need it the most, Sirius, Remus, Hermione and Harry find themselves in front of the fire in the ground floor living room. Sirius disappeared into the cellar for ten minutes and emerged with a bottle of expensive and old looking Firewhiskey, which they are now drinking.

"So, Harry, what are you two going to do now?" Remus asks, finishing his first glass and holding it out for Sirius for a refill.

"Prepare ourselves," he tells him, hoping to be able to keep his explanations as vaguely as possible. "We need to get into the Ministry, we'll watch the place to come up with a plan. And we'll continue practising spells, I guess."

He looks over at Hermione who nods in agreement. "Defence, offense, first aid. Everything that might come in handy."

"Will you return after you found what you wanted at the Ministry?"

Harry nods, glad to see his godfather smile. "I promise."

XXX

Draco plans on spending the first morning in August brewing since he won't be seeing Ianto until later that afternoon when the boy's shift ends. Indeed, Ianto Jones is the newest employee at a local coffee shop in Swansea. It takes him a while to get there despite the bike he owns and the pay is abysmal (still better than at Starbucks, Ianto would say), yet Draco has never seen his friend so happy.

Liope startles him when she asks him to come down. "Your presence is required, young master."

When he reaches the living room, Narcissa and McGonagall are already drinking tea. Draco takes a seat in the chair and pours himself a cup.

"I'm afraid I bring more bad news," the headmistress says. "The Ministry is no longer free. It appears that You-Know-How has taken over and killed Scrimgeour."

Draco's eyes narrow and he sets the cup down, all thoughts of tea forgotten.

"Before you ask, Mr Malfoy, Harry is perfectly safe."

A little bit of the tension in Draco's shoulders dissipates yet he still worries. Until now, the war has been something looming over them at the horizon – now it has become real.

"It is imperative, Mr Malfoy, that you keep a very low profile from now on. If you must go out, please alter your appearance."

Draco nods before the implications of her demand fully register so when they do, he clears his throat, looking for the least awkward way to explain his situation.

"What is it?"

"Professor, what about… I seem to have made a friend. If all of a sudden I can't go outside or have to change my appearance – what will I tell him?"

McGonagall's eyes turn sharp, her mouth thinning. "Are you suggesting you want to tell this friend about your magic? You can't violate the Statute of Secrecy, Mr Malfoy! Dye your hair and everything should be fine as long as you don't call attention to yourself."

"Dye?!" Draco shouts, incredulous, a hand moving up to touch his hair. "What do you mean, dye?!"

"Colour it. There are Muggle means to do it as well." Not for the first time when dealing with the witch, Draco wonders if her tight-lipped exterior is just a farce and if she is secretly laughing inside.

His shoulders sag in defeat and he tunes out the women's talking as he desperately tries to figure out what sort of colour would suit him.

XXX

The solution to all his problems – at least his Ianto-related ones – comes to him via Muggle telly.

"How was your first day at work?" Draco asks as he opens the door for his best friend around suppertime. Ianto eating with them has also become a regular occurrence, Draco notes.

"Exhausting! Who needs so many different coffees?"

"One day you'll be a grand coffee snob and curse anyone who drinks instant."

Ianto snorts. "Yeah, right."

They spend the meal watching TV like always, with Ianto talking incessantly about his first day, his co-workers and knowing he would receive a pay check at the end of the month. Ianto keeps up his monologue until they are back in Draco's room.

"… and then she tries to make it work and it's perfectly functional! It's almost as if it was hexed!"

"Why would anyone hex a coffee machine so it would only work for your colleagues and not you?"

"Are you saying I'm too daft to operate a coffee maker?"

"I'm saying you need practise, Ianto."

The boy chuckles and punches Draco's arm. "So, what's wrong? You look like someone killed your puppy."

"I don't have a puppy," Draco replies, bewildered.

Ianto rolls his eyes. "Of course you don't, don't be daft. It's an expression. So what's going on?"

Draco sighs, hoping he will pull off his made up story well enough for Ianto to believe him. "I need to tell you something."

"Need I be worried?"

"Shut up and listen, Jones."

"Then get to the bloody point, Mallory!"

The wrong surname is enough to sober Draco up in that moment. He takes a deep breath. "Something has happened which is related to my father's death. I can't really go out anymore if I don't change my appearance so that I won't be recognised. Just so you know. I need to keep a low profile, so no more shop-lifting, alright?"

Ianto blinks at him. "Are you on the run from the mob or something?"

Draco shrugs. "Witness protection. Can't tell you more." He watches as Ianto digests the news and it is proof for how smart the boy truly is that he doesn't ask questions Draco wouldn't have been able to answer.

"Very well, then. It seems you are in need of a new hair colour."

Draco doesn't know whether to groan or laugh and ends up emitting the strangest of sounds, which has both of them in stiches for the following five minutes.

Then, however, they do come up with a plan.

The next day after work, Ianto procures dye for Draco. Long moments of contemplation have led them to decide on a light brown. After applying, letting it set and finally sluicing out, Draco considers himself in the mirror.

"Feels weird," he comments but Ianto just shrugs.

"It's not too bad. Now, I'm thinking green contact lenses."

A picture of Harry's eyes immediately flashes before Draco's mental eye and he nods, a lump in his throat all of a sudden. "Sure."

"Good, 'cause I only bought green ones."

"Wanker."

"Tosser."

Draco shakes his head with a smile, shaking his hair and allowing it to fall into his face. "I think I can live with it."

"Not like you have another choice."

"Come on, let's watch Xena."

They rush out of the bathroom and into the first-floor living room to switch on the TV.

XXX

Draco eventually becomes used to his new look while his mother colours her long blond hair some sort of dirty blond and alters the cut which takes about ten years off her.

"Oh, stop flattering me," she tells him when he says as much.

On the 18th, Draco explicitly invites Ianto over to stay the night, seeing as the following morning is Ianto's seventeenth birthday (which unfortunately falls on a Tuesday). He tells the house-elves to prepare an exquisite breakfast with great coffee – because already Ianto has been complaining on occasion about the taste of their usual brew – and sets up his present on the balcony.

"Happy Birthday, Ianto!" Draco cheers as he opens the door after they've devoured their plates.

Ianto stares in awe at the shining new bicycle leaning against the fence.

"Do you like it? Or is it hideous? I knew I should have gone with black instead of the blue…" Draco rambles on when his best friend remains silent.

Then he sees a tear glisten in Ianto's eye and shifts uncomfortably. "What is it?"

Without warning, Ianto pulls him into a hug that lasts a full minute with Draco patting Ianto's back awkwardly. The boy pulls away with a sigh, wiping the tear away.

"Sorry. It's just I've never… This is the best gift anyone ever gave to me."

Draco smiles back weakly, pity battling with anger at Ianto's family inside his chest, and finally settles on, "Well, of course! It's from me."

It does the trick and makes Ianto laugh.

"Come on, I'll accompany you to work!"

"You have a bike?"

"Bought one when I got yours."

"I didn't know you could ride."

_Well, not in this context, I couldn't_, Draco thinks yet bites his tongue. He shrugs in a way that doesn't reveal he spent the past week teaching himself how to ride a Muggle bike. He has never heard his mother laugh as much as during these hard hours.

XXX

It becomes another thing they do, aside from Ianto spending basically every other night or them eating dinner in front of the telly: Every morning when Ianto has to work, Draco takes his bike and meets him at a junction and goes with him to the coffee shop where Draco will taste his way through their menu one drink at a time, then bike home and return during the last half hour of Ianto's shift.

The Saturday after Ianto's birthday, Draco witnesses how his best friend loses every singe brain cell he has ever possessed as a young woman – a girl, really, can't be older then them – comes out from the back. She is wearing an apron and is covered in flour, which leads Draco to the conclusion that she is the baker.

Ianto, usually rather confident behind the counter and handling the (surprisingly large amount of) equipment expertly, starts dropping things, moving his hands about awkwardly, his eyes glued to the girl.

"I need to fetch an order for the shop from the post office," she tells him and the rag Ianto used to wipe down the counter glides to the floor when he immediately straightens.

"Sure! Anything I need to keep an eye on?"

"Yeah, I have a batch of scones in the oven, they'll be done in ten minutes, just take them out when the timer rings, okay?"

"Of course!"

The girl disappears and Draco has to snap his fingers in front of Ianto's face several times before the boy deems him worthy of his attention.

Draco raises an eyebrow and watches Ianto blush.

"That was Delilah. She's the owner's daughter."

"You seem to think she's quite fit."

"Well, look at her!"

Draco chuckles. "You, my friend, definitely need help."

"With what?"

"Oh I'm sorry. Is standing there, staring at a bird like a dog wagging its tail the preferred method of flirting nowadays?" Draco smirks. "Or do you already have her number? Did you already ask her out?"

Ianto shakes his head, mouth hanging slightly open.

"Thought as much. We'll need to work on your act, mister. Believe me, with my assistance, you'll have won her over in no time," he drawls, hoping the arrogance in his voice will mask the cordial offer beneath.

"You'll do that for me?" Well, no such luck, then.

"After seeing your sad display just now? I'm doing humanity a service…" Draco doesn't need to mention that he can empathise. Having spent years nurturing his crush on Harry without doing anything about it, he is glad he can help someone suffering a similar fate. For if Ianto doesn't act, he will spend every working day staring longingly after this Delilah while other blokes take her out on dates.

"So, what's your advice?" Ianto asks later that night from his spot on the sofa while Draco is pacing in the space between the sofa and the bed.

"Don't just stare at her. You can take your eyes off her for a few seconds, she won't disappear. Help her with things, don't wait for her to ask you, alright?"

"When?"

"I don't know, you receive shipments, don't you? You know when, and if you don't, find out when they come in. Be there to help with the heavy lifting. It'll make a good impression. Hold the door open for her whenever you can."

"That's for old blokes, isn't it?"

"Exactly. She won't expect it and feel special because you're doing what no bloke has done before."

"Valid point. Continue." Ianto motions with his hand accordingly, causing Draco to roll his eyes again.

"Pay her compliments."

"As in…?"

"Damned if I know… What about, 'Oh, Delilah, you look great today, even though you're all dirty from baking all morning.' Or tell her you like her earrings, necklace, whatever. You like her hair. She's especially beautiful today."

"I can't compliment her jewellery, she'll think I'm a fag!"

"She won't," Draco soothes him, trying to ignore the pang in his chest when he hears the horror in Ianto's voice. Perhaps Ianto only doesn't like being thought of as queer by an attractive girl. Perhaps he wouldn't mind Draco being into blokes. "because on Sunday, you will give her a flower and ask her out on a date."

"Are you sure this is going to work?"

"Trust me."

XXX

Without Draco's help, Ianto would have been utterly lost. Yet since he has Draco on his side – and since the boy actually listens, thank Merlin – the plan works perfectly.

"She said yes!" Ianto shouts when he storms into Draco's room on Sunday in the late afternoon, vibrating with energy. "I'm meeting her for dinner and a movie tonight!"

Draco smiles in satisfaction and drags the boy along into the guest room to select something to wear for the date.

XXX

Harry closes the book on defensive spells with a snap that echoes through the otherwise empty library. They have been preparing, watching the Ministry in turn to find a possible angle against Umbridge and Harry's head is spinning.

Hermione is wanted for questioning regarding her blood status, which is why she has Harry's Cloak with her right now as she watches the Ministry workers leave the building after another day of changing policy for the worst.

The headline above his own photo, "_WANTED FOR QUESTIONING ABOUT THE DEATH OF ALBUS DUMBLEDORE_" flashed before his mind's eye accompanied by Hermione's outraged, "So Death Eaters have taken over the Daily Prophet, too?"

Above all, attendance to Hogwarts is now compulsory, as well as giving one's blood status before being allowed visit the school and Harry feels the rage rise in his chest again, so he rises from the chair and steps away from the ancient book or he will end up flinging it across the room.

"I know, Harry. It's bad."

Harry turns around to find Remus leaning against a shelf, a thin wound on his cheeks from when a curse hit him a few days ago. Death Eaters were attacking a Muggle village and the Order rushed to their rescue. Well, the Order, save Harry, Hermione and Sirius.

"I just wish we could act faster."

Remus walks over and stands next to him in front of the inactive fireplace.

"What is your mission, Harry?"

Harry's heart drops a little. Until now, Remus has been keeping quiet, ignoring the giant lack of knowledge regarding Harry's task separating him from the rest of the residents of Grimmauld Place.

"I can't, Remus. I'm sorry. If Dumbledore didn't tell you, I don't think I can."

"Then why did you tell Sirius?"

"You know that's different." Harry doesn't need to spell out his godfather is his only remaining relative.

Remus inhales deeply. "But I still might be of some use to you. You know what I am and what I can do. I could come with you to provide protection. There would be no need to tell me exactly what you are up to."

Harry blinks at the man, stunned into silence. It is a tempting offer, a werewolf to accompany them. However…

"What about Sirius?"

"He'd want you to be safe above all things."

"Of course, and that's why he'll tell you it's alright to come with me. But don't you think that after years apart, he'd want to be with you?"

"Harry, I'm sure James would have wanted me to stick with you."

"Well," he says slowly, "I'm not. I'm sure my father would have wanted his best friends to be happy in a time of war, not risk losing each other again."

"You need protection-"

"Perhaps," Harry interrupts him, voice rising, "but I also need to know that Sirius is alright and not going mad alone in this house! I need to know that there's a little bit of happiness in this world! The war is keeping enough people apart; you don't need to add to it."

He meets Remus' eyes, his jaw set. A moment passes between them and Harry is sure they are both thinking of that night in Harry's third year when Padfoot and Moony reunited and had to part again, of how Harry still keeps Draco's note from his birthday on his night table and how happy Sirius looks when they all gather around the dinner table for a meal.

"Alright. It's your decision," Remus grinds out through gritted teeth, yet his tone is not as vicious as Harry has feared it would be.

XXX

On the morning of September 1st, Harry wakes up earlier than usual and decides to take over Hermione's shift shadowing the Ministry. He leaves a note on the kitchen table and asks Kreacher to make sure Hermione sees it.

"Of course, Master Harry," the elf says sincerely and takes away his breakfast dishes.

He returns incredibly pissed off and throws the Daily Prophet he managed to pinch from someone's bag onto the table on top of the plans and hand-drawn maps littering the living room table, causing Sirius and Hermione to jump.

"What's happened?" Hermione asks before she glimpses the headline, "_SEVERUS SNAPE CONFIRMED AS HOGWARTS HEADMASTER_".

"That bastard!" Sirius shouts and Hermione snatches the paper from the table, reading the article out loud.

"'_Severus Snape, long-standing Potions master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was today appointed Headmaster in the most important of several staffing changes at the ancient school. Following the resignation of the previous Muggle Studies teacher, Alecto Carrow will take over the post while her brother, Amycus, fills the position as DADA professor. "I welcome the opportunity to uphold our finest wizarding traditions and values -_"' Like committing murder and cutting off people's ears, I suppose! Snape, Headmaster! Snape in Dumbledore's study – Merlin's pants!" she shrieks, discarding the newspaper and hurrying from the room. "I'll be back in a minute!"

Sirius and Harry exchange looks.

"'Merlin's pant's'? She must be upset," Sirius smirks. "But the teachers won't stand for this. Who are these Carrows anyway?"

"Death Eaters." When his godfather raises an eyebrow, Harry explains, "There were pictures inside. They were at the top of the Tower when Snape killed Dumbledore, so it's all friends together," Harry goes on bitterly. "I can't see that the other teachers have any choice but to stay. If the Ministry and Voldemort are behind Snape, it'll be a choice between staying and teaching, or a nice few years in Azkaban – and that's if they're lucky. I reckon they'll stay to protect the students."

"I think you're right," Sirius agrees just as Kreacher enters to tell them lunch is ready in the kitchen. Kreacher's cooking has improved, just as his manners and Harry is glad to see that the old hostility between his godfather and the elf is gone.

When Hermione joins them for lunch, Harry tells them about the increase in Death Eaters watching the house.

"It's like they're hoping we'll march out carrying our school trunks and head off for the Hogwarts Express."

Hermione pushes her bowl away, soup only half-eaten. "It's weird, not being back."

Their eyes meet and Harry's thoughts drift to Ron, who is probably sitting in a compartment and waiting for the witch selling sweets to arrive.

Suddenly, Hermione's eyes widen and she bolts from the room, leaving Sirius and Harry to stare after her. When she returns several minutes later, she is carrying her handbag and a large, framed painting which she proceeds to force inside.

"Phineas Nigellus," she explains. "He has a portrait in Dumbledore's office. Snape might send him to spy on us."

"Good thinking," Sirius praises her, helping her push the painting fully into the bag.

After lunch, they return to their plans, Hermione leaving in the afternoon to monitor the witches and wizards coming and going as their work day ends.

Back at Grimmauld Place, going over plans for what feels like the hundredth time, Harry reaches a decision.

"I think we should do it tomorrow."

XXX

The next day is nothing but controlled chaos. Their plan works, Mafalda Hopkirk and Albert Runcorn come to work but never reach their destination with Harry and Hermione, transformed through Polyjuice Potion, having taken their place.

They see Yaxley berate a terrified wizard in the Atrium who takes one look at Harry and decides to take another elevator.

Harry infiltrates Umbridge's office, enters the interrogation room with his Cloak pulled around him where the same wizard from before is watching worriedly as Yaxley and Umbridge accuse a witch, probably his wife, of stealing her wand from someone else.

Then, it is chaos. The Muggleborns manage to escape and Harry's heart is beating so fast he fears it might explode as he seizes Hermione and turns on the spot, darkness engulfs them, Harry feels like he is going to suffocate and Hermione's fingers seem to be sliding out of his hand…

He sees the door of Grimmauld Place yet before he can fully experience the relief the sight brings there is a scream and a flash of purple light; Hermione's grip tightens suddenly and everything turns dark again.

He comes to on leaves and twigs, staring up at trees and sunlight.

"Hermione!" he shouts but before he reaches her, she sits up, gulping down air.

"What happened? Why are we here? I thought we were going back to Grimmauld Place?" I thought we promised Sirius we'd come back? he adds in his mind.

"Harry, I don't think we're going to be able to go back there."

"What do you –?"

"As we Disapparated, Yaxley caught hold of me and I couldn't get rid of him, he was too strong, and he was still holding on when we arrived at Grimmauld Place, and then – well, I think he must have seen the door, and thought we were stopping there, so he slackened his grip and I managed to shake him off and I brought us here instead!" Hermione's voice is shrill in the silence of the forest surrounding them.

"But then… Hang on – do you mean he's at Grimmauld Place? He can't get in there!"

"Harry, I think he can." Hermione is blinking rapidly now, trying to hold back the tears filling her eyes. "I – I forced him to let go with a Revulsion Jinx, but I'd already taken him inside the Fidelius Charm's protection. Since Dumbledore died, we're Secret Keepers, so I've given him the secret, haven't I?"

Harry swallows, shaking his head. "But Sirius and Remus, they're still there, we need to help-"

"Harry, they're great wizards! They'll be able to escape, alright? We can't go back, it's too risky! Sirius wouldn't want us to, and we always knew we'd have to go off alone one day."

He knows she is right. Still, it hurts, even more so as his mind flashes back to their heart-felt goodbye, Sirius hugging him and wishing them luck with a sparkle in his eyes which couldn't hide the fact that his godfather would have loved to come with them on this adventure.

Realisation dawns slowly and terrifyingly so. He is not going to see Sirius again for a long time.

XXX

Sirius hears the scream even in the living room and within seconds he is out of his chair and in the hallway, wand raised and every muscle in his body tense in anticipation.

He catches the last moments of a wizard being flung onto the floor through the door – a wizard he doesn't recognise. The man doesn't have time to prop himself up before Sirius' curse hits him, rendering him unconscious.

"Sirius?!" Remus is running down the stairs and stops on one of the lower steps as he takes in the scene below him.

"Harry and Hermione must have been followed. I think they managed to escape but this one here," he shoves the wizard with his foot, causing him to roll onto his back, "fell through the front door."

"Damn it!" Remus closes the door hurriedly. "He must have managed to slide-along with them. Good thing they managed to shake him off, though."

Sirius meets his partner's eyes and watches the colour drain from his face.

"No," he says, shaking his head, "we're not killing him!"

"For all we know he might be a Death Eater. He tried to hurt Harry."

"He is a Death Eater –" Sirius raises an eyebrow, "I've seen his picture, he's the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I read his name in the Prophet… Yaxley! Yes, Yaxley. I've seen him at the last attack on a Muggle village, he lost his Death Eater mask because of one of Tonks' curses."

Sirius steps closer towards the body. "All the more reason to kill him."

"And stoop to their level?"

"So what do you suppose we do, offer him tea and biscuits?" Sirius snarls, anticipating Remus' answering eye roll.

"We can tie him up, tell the Order about this but we can't decide to simply murder him."

"Technically, I have one free. Or wait, thirteen, actually."

"Stop joking about this, Padfoot."

"Oh, nicknames, now I'm in trouble."

"What's this really about, Sirius?" Remus demands, taking a step in his direction.

"This is a bloody Death Eater! A stinking Death Eater who is the reason Harry didn't come back here and you suggest we only tie him up and wait for the Order to decide what to do with him? The hell I will!"

With a fling of his wand, Yaxley's unconscious body props itself up and Sirius storms down the stairs to the basement, the man floating after him. He hears Remus' footsteps following him but the fury in his veins is making it hard to care.

He reaches the door next to the boiler room and flings it open with a flick of his wand. The room is empty save for two pairs of chains on the wall, decades old and long since out of use, yet Kreacher must have kept them in good condition at his mother's request.

He hears Remus stop in the doorframe just as he makes the chains fasten around Yaxley's ankles and wrists. Sirius pulls the wand out of the man's pocket and breaks it in two, the sound of it echoing with a satisfying snap around the empty cell.

"What is this place?" Remus all but whispers.

"Holding cell and torture chamber; hasn't been used in decades if not centuries."

Remus shudders as he considers their hostage. "He could do with a chair."

"The comfort of a sodding Death Eater is not very high on my list, Moony."

The werewolf smiles wryly. "I meant for extra restraint. Tie him to a chair as well."

Sirius smirks. "KREACHER! We need a chair down here!"

After the man is unable to move, bound to the chair and gagged thanks to Kreacher's help which the elf eagerly offered, Remus puts a hand on Sirius' chest to stop him from advancing on the prisoner.

"We'll return when he is conscious, Sirius." Remus' tone is firm and Sirius swallows, his fingers itching to hurt the bastard responsible for the fact that Harry can't return.

Fingers caress his cheeks and he tears his eyes away from Yaxley, meeting Remus'. "I know," he says softly and brushes his lips against Sirius'. "Let's go and let him wake up alone."

Sirius smirks and pulls his partner out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Yaxley will wake to darkness and silence.

XXX

On September 1st, Professor McGonagall visits Draco and his mother not only to pick up a new batch of potions from Draco and deliver some new ingredients and orders, but also to inform them of recent events.

"There have been more attacks on villages with a known Muggleborn population," the teacher says gravely. "Ever since the Ministry has fallen, the attacks have become more and more obvious, I'm afraid."

"Have you sustained any more losses?" Narcissa asks and smiles briefly when McGonagall shakes her head.

"How was the first day at Hogwarts?" Draco asks, still feeling a bit melancholy, not having boarded the train for the first time in seven years that morning.

McGonagall's answer is a rather uncharacteristic sound, almost like a growl. "Snape has been named headmaster."

"Snape?!" Draco shouts at the same time as his mother exclaims, "Severus?!"

"Yes. The appointment came from the Ministry, in other words, from You-Know-Who personally. Which also explains how the Carrow siblings attained positions amongst the faculty." The witch shudders and Draco can but empathise. Alecto and Amycus are rather unpleasant to say the least.

Following the start of the new term, the time Draco spends with Ianto decreases dramatically since the boy continues to work at the coffee shop despite his classes and when he is neither studying nor working, Ianto goes out with Delilah.

Draco hates the girl for taking his friend away, just a little bit. Yet when Ianto's mother has to be admitted to the hospital the second week of September and his father's drinking worsens, it is Draco's doorstep that Ianto turns up on.

"Sorry," he mumbles, and Draco can see the bruise on his cheek which everyone will think stems from one of the fights Ianto is rumoured to be prone participating in. "I know this isn't planned, but, I mean, if you'll let me…" He trails off, eyes on the floor and Draco pulls him into the house.

"No need to ask," he tells Ianto. "Consider it your room, you understand?"

Ianto's head snaps up when he processes the implication, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"I'm serious."

Ianto releases a shaky breath and Draco can see unshed tears shining in his eyes. "Thank you."

Draco nods in the direction of the living room. "Come on. How about some tea?"

Ianto nods and ten minutes later, both of them are sitting on the sofa sipping hot tea in companionable silence.

XXX

**End Notes**: I'm tempted to allow Sirius to torture the bloke. Remus still won't allow it but hell, he would deserve it…

Also, sorry for not being in sync with the plot. I'm mostly following my gut with when to tell what, so next chapter will be Draco mid-September and then Sirius after Yaxley landed in his hallway. Hope you're not too confused!


	13. Changes

**Mutation - Chapter 4: Changes**

**Summary:** Draco has to face the truth. Sirius and Remus confront their hostage.

**Author's Notes: **Sorry that this is later than usual but I spent 7,5 hours on a train today. Now, I'm back home for the hols, though :) Aaaaand I have porn for you! It's not Harry/Draco but I do hope you enjoy!

Also, this chapter is basically Harry-less. But well, the first phase of Horcrux hunting without Ron there to throw a tantrum doesn't provide one with much to write about. At least my AU-plot lines are in sync again later in this chapter!

Fyi, Carwen is a traditional Welsh name, at least according to google.

XXX

_I've said it so many times _  
_I would change my ways _  
_No, never mind _  
_God knows I've tried_

_- "Call me", Shinedown_

XXX

Draco tries not to think about the fact that a Muggle boy basically lives with them now and it joins the rest of the thoughts he keeps blocking in the back of his mind along with his worries about Harry and his guilt concerning his father.

He also tries to hate Delilah until Ianto decides they all need to hang about together and it turns out the girl is actually all right. A little boring, yet most Muggles are in Draco's opinion, but she makes Ianto happy and bakes perfect Banoffee pie.

"I'm having a birthday party next Saturday," she says nearing the end of September. "I'd like you to come. Both of you."

They are lounging in Draco's living room – or rather, Draco and Ianto's living room, as far as Lilah is concerned – flipping through the channels after dinner.

"Thank you! We'd love to come!" Ianto answers before Draco even registers what exactly this means – namely celebrating an evening with a group of Lilah's very Muggle friends at her very Muggle party.

Which is why he spends a good portion of the following day looking for a present. Ianto is giving her a beautiful necklace Draco helped pick out a few days before, yet as someone who is decidedly not her boyfriend, Draco is at a loss regarding what to buy her.

He settles on a gift certificate for a clothing store he heard her mention several times and a box of chocolates, which will probably end up as public property at the party so he opts for the cheaper ones. Besides, he doesn't really care, anyway.

"Draco." Ianto sounds surprisingly earnest for a Friday night.

"Yes?"

"I feel it is my duty as your best friend to warn you. Evil plans have been set in motion."

Draco narrows his eyes, used by now to Ianto's ability to deliver the most ridiculous lines with a straight face. "And what evil plans would that be, pray tell?"

"Lilah has decided to set you up with one of her friends."

"Why?"

"Because she thinks you'd like the girl. You'd make a nice couple."

Draco's heart jumps into his throat and his palms feel clammy all of a sudden. "Oh. What do you think?"

"Well," Ianto stretches a bit on the sofa, "I only know her from Lilah's accounts but she sounds great."

"Thanks for the warning," Draco manages, takes a deep breath and adds, "but that won't be necessary. I'm taken, sort of."

Ianto narrows his eyes suspiciously. "Oh, really? Since when? I think I'd have noticed if you'd been going off with a bird!"

Draco sighs, running a hand through his hair. It's probably the gesture that gives away that the situation is more complex.

"Since before I met you. It's complicated," Draco explains.

"Why've you never said anything?"

"Because I was supposed to forget it. We can't be together until… It has to do with why my father died. I can't tell you the details, sorry. The point is that we can't be together and I'm still not over him."

There. He said it. He is watching for Ianto's reaction which is his eyes widening as the personal pronoun registers.

"Him? You got a boyfriend?"

Draco shrugs. "Had. Have. It's complicated."

"Why haven't you told me earlier?" Ianto demands and Draco knows it is about much more than just the fact that Draco is spoken for.

"It never came up," he responds truthfully. "Is this going to be a problem?"

Their eyes meet and all Draco can discern is that Ianto is a little disappointment since Draco didn't confide in him sooner. His heart lowers itself back down from his throat into his chest.

"No." Ianto shrugs. "So what are you going to tell this bird tomorrow?"

"I was considering the art of lying through my teeth."

"Why? Can't you just say you've got a boyfriend?" When Draco raises a quizzical eyebrow, he elaborates. "Because I honestly don't think they'll mind. And this way, they won't think they still stand a chance."

"I'll think about it."

XXX

Twenty-four hours later Draco is considering his reflection in the tall mirror in his room. After weeks of being confronted daily with it, his light brown hair doesn't even strike him as odd anymore. He decided to follow Ianto's example of jeans and a long-sleeve t-shirt, probably choosing the emerald one out of nostalgia, yet whether this is for Harry's eyes or the Slytherin dorm, Draco doesn't dare to determine.

Ianto is wearing red underneath his leather jacket, perfectly wrapped present in hand as well as flowers he bought earlier.

"Don't drink too much," Narcissa warns them both as she sees them out of the door and Draco refuses to blush.

Lilah's party takes place in the flat above the coffee shop where she lives with her parents (who have conveniently fled the apartment for the weekend). There is beer as well as vodka, whiskey and something Draco remembers is Tequila and will not come anywhere near him for the duration of the celebration.

Draco makes polite small-talk with some of the guests while Lilah gushes over her necklace and smells the flowers. He is both appalled as well as fascinated by how well he manages to blend in with Muggles.

_McGonagall would be proud_, he thinks bitterly.

"Draco," Lilah calls and pushes an admittedly rather pretty blonde along with her. "This is Carwen."

"Hello," Draco greets her politely and she mirrors him.

"Why don't we take a seat and have a drink? I want you all to toast me!" Lilah announces and pulls Draco along with her and Carwen towards the sitting arrangement in the living room. Of course he ends up sitting next to the girl with the strange Welsh name.

"Why don't you tell Carwen a bit about yourself?" Lilah suggests fifteen minutes later and all eyes are suddenly on Draco who glances at Ianto who nods encouragingly.

"In order to spare you a bit of trouble, and you," he turns to Carwen, "any more awkward moments, I'll tell you right now that she's not my type, Lilah."

She pouts, shooting back a sharp, "Who's your type, then?"

"My boyfriend. It's long distance at the moment."

The circles falls silent until another one of Lilah's friends, Erin he thinks, blurts out, "My cousin is gay, too! Though he's twenty-six. Might be a bit old for you."

Draco gives her his most charming smile. "It's all right. I'm spoken for."

And that concludes the topic, to Draco's astonishment.

The party is uncannily reminiscent of any wizarding party Draco has ever attended: with alcohol, drinking games, loud music and too much food. Muggle girls are also mostly daft and annoying, though Draco has yet to come across a girl who is as big a nag as Granger.

An only slightly tipsy Draco rides his bike back alone since Ianto will spend the night – something he has flipped out about several times during the past week and Draco will undoubtedly be at the receiving end of an extensive analysis of what happened the next day.

He doesn't head for his room once he reaches the safe house but sits down on the balcony, performing a quick warming charm to keep off the cold night air.

These past few months have changed him, he realises as he gazes across the city below him, outlined by nothing more than streetlights. His thoughts drift back to his first encounter with Ianto, how their arrangement started, Ianto supporting him after the night at the pub…

The sound of footsteps causes Draco to turn around. Narcissa settles into a second chair, wrapping her nightgown tighter around herself. They sit in pensive silence for a while until Draco clears his throat, the alcohol loosening his tongue.

"Why was I taught to hate Muggles? What's so bad about them?"

His mother's eyes are softer than they usually are when he meets her gaze. "I have been asking myself the same question," she whispers into the night. "Patricia has been such a good friend these past weeks. I don't know any of my magical acquaintances who would do the same."

Draco knows Patricia – one of Narcissa's high society friends who seems surprisingly less shallow than the rest of those harpies, Draco found.

Silence stretches, the noise of the city nothing but a murmur in the background.

"Was father wrong? Wrong to follow Him?" Draco finally dares.

"I don't know."

Yet Draco fathoms both his mother and he know deep down that her answer is nothing more than an excuse to avoid speaking the truth that is staring them right in the face every time Ianto or Patricia are around.

XXX

Consciousness returns to Oswald Yaxley in equal measures slowly and painfully. Breathing is difficult and his tongue pushes against the cloth in his mouth. The gag proves unyielding.

His entire body feels stiff, his shoulders in particular ache deeply and when he tries to move he feels restraints. His eyes fly open yet it makes no difference – the room is pitch-black, no windows, no light source.

He struggles, though it quickly proves in vain. He seems to be tied to a chair by magical rope, though he also believes there is metal around his wrists.

Trying to remember anything that might explain his predicament, his mind wanders back to his last memories. The Ministry. Mrs Cattermole's hearing.

Harry Potter.

Yes, he followed Potter, managed to get a hold of the Mudblood with him, Granger he thinks, and then a door, a Revulsion jinx, falling into the house but then – nothing.

I'm in a house Potter uses as a hide-out, Yaxley concludes, which would be a wonderful discovery if it weren't for his restraints.

He waits patiently, wondering if working for the Dark Lord makes one especially calm in the face of danger since regardless of the situation, the Dark Lord is still more dangerous than anything one could imagine.

When the door eventually opens and someone kindles the lamp on the ceiling with a wand, Yaxley's throat goes dry.

Sirius Black is standing in the doorway.

"Hello, Yaxley," he says, an evil glint in his eyes. "I just wanted to show you whom exactly you ended up with."

Against his better knowledge, Yaxley's pulse quickens. Even though he knows Black didn't kill all those Muggles as well as Pettigrew, he is still feared amongst Death Eaters for they especially know what Azkaban can do to a person.

"You fate hasn't been decided yet," Black continues leisurely, "but I'm sure we're going to question you. And if you're not going to talk, I'll readily support torturing you. Hell, I'll even do it myself and with pleasure." Black barks a laugh and extinguishes the lamp, though not before Yaxley managed to glance about the room, trying to find anything helpful.

The room is bare.

"You can piss yourself now," Black sneers, throwing the door shut behind him.

XXX

"You were down there, weren't you?" Remus asks when Sirius enters the living room where his partner has just tied a letter to their owl.

"Sorry," is Sirius' completely insincere reply.

"What did you do?"

He raises his hands mockingly. "I only told him the facts. That he will most likely be interrogated and that if he doesn't talk, I'll torture him."

Anger flares in Moony's eyes immediately. "You are not going to torture him, Sirius!"

"And why not? Isn't he just another Death Eater? Hasn't he done horrible things? You said it yourself, he's the Head of the Department of Magical –"

"Be that as it may, it doesn't excuse throwing our morals out of the window."

"This is war, Remus!"

"Which is why we need to be better than our adversaries," Remus shoots back, voice forcibly calm.

"If we live by that, we'll lose!"

"You're not that person, Sirius. I know you," Moony insists, swallowing hard, probably in an attempt to rein in his anger. "You wouldn't torture anyone, not really."

"I would kill if it needed be done."

"But is it necessary now? He might not even know anything of importance!"

"He's a Department Head! He's the reason Harry is Undesirable Number One! He's why –" Sirius cuts himself off but the look on Remus' face shows him he has already revealed too much.

"And that's the real reason, isn't it?" Moony's voice is soft, soothing even as he takes a step into Sirius' personal space. "He took Harry away from you. And now that you're finally in a position to do something, you're jumping at the chance even if it means torture."

Sirius wants to reply but his throat is dry and his chest tight. Remus shouldn't mention Harry. Sirius had all summer to reconcile with the idea that his godson - who is his bloody responsibility - would leave Grimmauld Place behind and go on a hunt for Horcruxes when the entirety of the Ministry is after him. Yet after all this time, he still didn't want to accept it, didn't want to let Harry go, was glad that he would return after infiltrating the Ministry and now he couldn't, had to flee because of that bloody waste of space of a Death Eater.

And who knows what will happen to Harry out there, in a world Sirius hasn't really seen for fifteen years and which he can't protect his godson from. Voldemort will not stop until he finds Harry and then he will kill him, neither can live while the other survives, Harry's words still ringing in his ears, his tone hard and so bloody firm as he confided in Sirius last summer, but Harry is just a boy, hardly of age, while Voldemort is the most powerful wizard of all times –

Strong arms pull him out of his thoughts and Sirius finds himself in Remus' embrace but there's no air –

"Breathe, Padfoot," Remus murmurs, rubbing soothing circles into his back, "just breathe. It's a panic attack, breathe through it."

Sirius does as he is told and feels tears sliding down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry," Moony whispers when Sirius' breath has evened out again several minutes later. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

Sirius shrugs.

"Want to talk about it?"

"What's there to say?"

"What has you so worried?"

"How can you ask that?" Sirius takes a step back but doesn't shake off Remus' arms still holding on to his sides. "Harry is now out there where he'll never be safe and Voldemort is after him and won't stop until he has achieved his goal!"

"Harry can look after himself. Hasn't he proven this time and time again? You were always the first to say he can take care of himself."

"But this is different! This is worse than anything he has faced before, don't you see that?"

"I do, but he is as stubborn as James was and did we ever manage to talk him out of anything?"

"No, but we were there to help him out of the shite he got into because of it."

Moony sighs and raises his hand to caress Sirius' cheeks. "I know. I know you're frustrated because you're confined to a house you hate, because you can't help the way you want to. I know you're worried but worry won't help us, Sirius. All we can do is believe in Harry and that Dumbledore gave him what he needs to accomplish his task."

Sirius snorts. "Yeah, Dumbledore left him a snitch. How's that supposed to help defeat Voldemort?"

"Dumbledore worked in mysterious ways, Sirius."

They stand there in silence for a while, Remus' thumb stroking his jaw and he leans into the touch.

"But really, Padfoot. You have to stop worrying, especially now that Harry is gone. You have the coin; you will know how he is. He's not gone forever."

Logical thought tells Sirius his partner is right, that worrying won't help and that he doesn't need to, not yet. His heart, however, tells a different story.

Just then he feels something in his pocket grow warm and with a shout he disentangles himself from Remus' arms and pulls the coin out of his pocket.

_We're safe; Hermione took us to a forest. Yaxley was inside the Fidelius. Please tell me you're all right?_

Sirius sags against the kitchen counter, relief flooding him. He shows the coin to Remus who has been activated as a user of the coin and receives a smile in return.

He quickly conjures his response.

_We're both fine. Yaxley bound and gagged in the basement, don't worry. Please stay safe._

"I was sure you'd asked him to return, even if we all agreed he needed to leave."

Sirius puts the coin back into his pocket. "I almost did. But I would never have let him go again if he had come back to Grimmauld Place."

Their eyes meet, Remus' mirroring the sadness that surely is visible in his own, and Sirius moves, leaning forward, brushing his lips against Remus'. The kiss stays chaste for about half a minute before Sirius bites Remus' lower lip, eliciting a growl from the werewolf.

In one swift movement, Moony has maneuvered them against the book case, pushing their groins together. Sirius feels the edges of the shelves dig into his back but it doesn't matter when he feels Remus' growing erection against his own.

When they break their kiss, Sirius bares his throat, drawing a low growl from Remus who bites the crook of his neck hard enough to make Sirius wince and his cock jump inside his pants.

He recalls a time when Moony was way more reserved, asking permission for every scrape of his teeth against Sirius' skin, afraid the wolf inside him would come out too much, would hurt his lover and it is brilliant proof of how much their relationship has evolved that Remus can simply let go like this and Sirius can give himself over completely.

The warmth of Moony's body leaves him and he almost falls forward. He glances up at Remus whose eyes are dark with lust. A movement of his hand and Sirius is naked, clothes neatly folded on the chair in the corner. Another flick of his wrist and Remus' clothes are gone as well and Sirius drinks in the sight of his lover's body.

Moony advances like a predator would on his prey, grabbing Sirius' arms and throwing him roughly against the sofa so that the armrest is digging into his stomach. Remus is on him immediately, draping himself over Sirius' back, rubbing his cock against his arse. Sirius bares his neck again and feels Remus' cock twitch and his nails dig into his sides.

Sirius cries out when one hand releases him just as human teeth break skin yet he jolts in pleasure when he feels a finger trace the cleft of his arse and tease his hole. The tenderness Remus pours into preparing him is a delicious contrast to the bruising grip his other hand has on Sirius and soon he finds himself rocking back, fucking himself on Remus' fingers.

"Come on, Moony, I need you inside me," he pants. His lover obliges immediately, replacing his fingers with his hard cock in one well-practised move. He doesn't give Sirius time to adjust or to enjoy the feeling of being filled – instead, Remus takes him with brutal thrusts, fingernails and teeth marking every inch the werewolf can reach. Sirius' erection is rubbing against the sofa, the friction perfect but still not enough, yet he can't release his grip on the cushions.

Suddenly, Remus pulls out. Sirius moans at the loss but further protests die in his throat as his lover manhandles him onto his back and climbs over the armrest. Remus drapes Sirius' legs over his shoulders and is inside him again, pressing close enough for Sirius' erection to be caught between their torsos.

Sirius moans and whimpers, the new angle does wonders for his prostate and all too soon he feels his orgasm building. Remus can probably smell it for he smirks and leans down to steal a brutal kiss that takes Sirius' breath away and pushes him over the edge.

Remus doesn't relent; if anything, his thrusts become harder until he stills completely. Sirius opens his eyes, not wanting to miss the look of bliss on Remus' face as he spills his release inside his body and collapses on top of him.

XXX

A soft hooting noise wakes Sirius and he disentangles himself from Remus' sleeping form. With a smile, Sirius notes that they fell asleep on the sofa.

He recognises McGonagall's handwriting and isn't sure whether he wants to know what she has to say. With a glance at Moony he breaks the seal and unrolls the parchment.

_Dear Remus, dear Sirius,_

_Thank you for informing me of this immediately. I'm relieved you managed to subdue Yaxley though I would not have expected any less of you._

_Regarding how we will proceed: Obliviating him is out of the question since once someone is inside a Fidelius Charm, nothing can take the knowledge from them again. And no, Sirius, killing his is out of the question, even if he is a Death Eater._

_As Head of the DMLE, Yaxley is bound to have certain information concerning You-Know-Who's plans. I doubt, however, that the man will release them voluntarily. As leader of the Order, I officially forbid you to use means of torture to extract information. There are other ways. I will procure Veritaserum and personally administer it, should I manage to leave the school undetected._

_Until this day comes, don't harm your hostage, though I doubt he will need any luxuries._

_Sincerely, _  
_Minerva McGonagall_

Briefly, Sirius considers burning the letter yet Remus would see right through him if he said the witch had approved of the violent extraction of information. And knowing Remus, ignoring McGonagall's words would lead to very bad things – a sex ban, for one, and then where would Sirius be?

Sighing, he sets the letter down and lies back down next to his sleeping wolf.

XXX

Draco barely slept the night following Lilah's birthday party yet he needs to be alert. Today he has to put the finishing touches to the Veritaserum brewing in the one room Ianto doesn't have access to, which is why Draco downs three cups of coffee with breakfast and disappears before his mother has awoken.

McGonagall and he agreed she would come by the safe house at ten, reducing the risk of Ianto being there since he, Draco guesses, will spend the morning engaging in carnal activities with his girlfriend.

"Thank you, Draco." McGonagall looks worried. Draco can only guess that the Carrows are proving to be awful teachers and no one can stop them.

"No problem, it was an interesting challenge," he replies with a smirk, carefully concealing the fact that he has never before brewed such a complicated potion.

His former teacher nods and turns to leave. Draco doesn't call her back and ask if she knows any news of Harry even though his fingers are itching and his chest is aching to know what became of the Boy Who Lived.

XXX

Remus observes the brown eyes of Oswald Yaxley glaze over as the Veritaserum takes effect. Their hostage is back in the chair after spending most of his time at Number Twelve on the floor of the cell, tied to the wall with no means of escape.

If Sirius had his way, Yaxley would have probably starved to death by now, yet Remus made sure to look after the Death Eater. Even so, the man's face looks gaunt in the dim light of the lamp on the ceiling.

"What is your name?" Minerva asks.

"Oswald Gilford Yaxley."

"What is your position in the Ministry?"

"Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, though I have been replaced by now, presumably."

"What is your affiliation with Lord Voldemort?" Sirius barks at him yet Yaxley's face remains calm.

"I am his follower. I bear the Dark Mark."

"What are You-Know-Who's plans for the future?" Minerva takes over again with a slight glare in Sirius' direction.

"I do not know the plans of my Lord."

"You're a Department Head, you must know certain plans," Minerva insists and Remus notices the heightened stiffness in Sirius' neck with worry.

"What kinds of laws or decrees will he pass?" Remus tries and thankfully, Yaxley is less vague now.

"He will ban his name from being said out loud since it is a trademark of members of the Order of the Phoenix."

"How will it work?"

"Every time someone says his name the Ministry will be notified. He shall only be addressed as 'Dark Lord' soon."

Remus, Sirius and Minerva share glances.

"What measures does he intend to take regarding the Undesirable Number One?" Minerva asks and Remus feels his throat tighten.

"The Dark Lord knows Harry Potter is out there, hiding. A curfew will be imposed on purely Wizarding communities, triggering an alarm should anyone linger or arrive after curfew. The Snatchers are also out there, looking for him."

"Snatchers?" Remus wonders out loud.

"Low-lives trawling the woods and mountains for runaway Mudbloods and Mudblood sympathisers. If they catch a wanted fugitive, they receive a reward."

"What are Voldemort's plans for Harry Potter?"

"He wants to kill him."

Remus swallows his fear yet Sirius isn't as composed. His hand lashes out before either Remus or Minerva can stop him and he hits Yaxley square across the face.

"Sirius!" Remus half-admonishes, half-soothes and pulls his lover back.

"Yes, you filthy monster, hold back your perverted boyfriend," Yaxley snarls. "He's worse than the Muggle-lovers, shagging an animal! Don't you think I have no idea what's going on in this house, Black, I know you're the wolf's little bitch-"

Remus' grip on Sirius slackens, weakened by his own anger and they both pounce on the Death Eater, tipping over the chair backwards, causing Yaxley's head to hit the ground with a satisfying thump.

"ENOUGH!" Minerva roars and only then does Remus realise that he has been punching Yaxley so hard he broke the man's nose. The broken jaw, however, seems to be Sirius' doing.

"Have you both gone mad?" Minerva implores, fixing them both with a stern gaze. Remus glances at Sirius who looks as furious as Remus feels. He takes a steadying breath which doesn't help at all since it carries the scent of blood into his nose.

Remus has to actively stop himself from licking his knuckles, which are drenched in Yaxley's blood.

A cough from the man draws all their attention to the ground.

"I've heard enough of the Death Eater scum," Sirius announces and flees the room.

Minerva remains silent, her eyes conveying her disappointment about how Remus could lose control like this.

"He was insulting –"

"I don't care whom he was insulting; you are not to be ruled by rage, Remus. Foolhardy actions like this have dire consequences in situations like ours. Now go after your partner while I'll see if this idiot knows more."

Remus chances a smile before he leaves, heading straight to the library – the only place Sirius seems to have grown fond of in the entire house – leaning against the mantelpiece.

"Padfoot," he dares, which has Sirius whirling around immediately, fury still high in his eyes.

"No one calls you an animal, Moony! Especially not scumbags like him!"

"Thank you."

"I mean – what?"

"For trying to defend my honour. Even if the man you attacked was defenceless and not worth our attention. But thank you."

Remus steps into Sirius' personal space and presses their foreheads together, inhaling deeply. Sirius must have a cracked knuckle, he can smell his blood. Without making the conscious decision to do so, Remus takes Sirius' hand and kisses the wound, tasting his lover's blood.

It's not that Remus denies that his nature is part human, part wolf. Hell, even a few years ago, he would have agreed with Yaxley calling him a monster. It took Sirius coming back into his life to make him realise the wolf doesn't define him exclusively.

And Sirius, wonderful beautiful Sirius, knows him better than anyone else, has grown to love him when they were seventeen and then again when they were thirty-four after years apart. Sirius not only accepts the wolf but embraces him, knows what he needs and isn't afraid to give it.

Remus tries to put all his thoughts and emotions into a single kiss that leaves both him and Sirius breathless when they eventually pull apart.

Before either of them can speak, a cough interrupts them. Minerva is waiting in the doorframe.

"Apparently we have extracted all the information that was to be extracted," she explains curtly. "I'm afraid the man has to remain here longer still since he knows too much and we can't risk the information falling into the wrong hands."

"If you expect us to feed that sodding bastard –"

"Yes, Sirius, I do. He is our captive and we are not a brute band of barbarians. We are the Order of the Phoenix, Sirius Black, and we do not kill because it is the convenient solution."

Remus squeezes Sirius' hand which he is still holding and, thank Merlin, his lover holds his tongue.

"Understood," Remus replies, concluding the matter. "Let me see you to the floo."

And if Sirius follows a little disgruntledly it doesn't faze him as long as Sirius follows.

XXX

**End Notes:** To knot or not to know, that was the question. I decided against it, eventually, since I didn't want to add the tag. It took me a while to like that particular kind and I didn't want to deter anyone. VernieKlein has already requested a one-shot, though, so there might be more porn to come!


	14. Meanwhile, at Hogwarts

**Mutation: Chapter 5 - Meanwhile, at Hogwarts**

**Summary:** The situation at Hogwarts is dire. Ron does his best to rebel against the Carrow's and Snape's regime yet he soon has to realise that he is fighting the wrong battle.

**Author's Notes:** This is a tad shorter than usual, sorry for that, but I wanted a chapter that is Hogwarts-only :)

XXX

_Hey brother, do you still believe in one another?_  
_Hey sister, do you still believe in love I wonder?_  
_Oh if the sky comes falling down, for you,_  
_there's nothing in this world I wouldn't do._

_What if I'm far from home? _  
_Oh brother, I will hear you call. _  
_What if I lose it all? _  
_Oh sister, I will help you out! _  
_Oh if the sky comes falling down, for you, _  
_there's nothing in this world I wouldn't do._

_- "Brother/Sister", Avicii_

XXX

Ron knows it is daft but he can't stop himself from scanning the crowd gathered on the platform. Of course neither Hermione nor Harry are there, he never thought they would come, not really.

Still.

Ever since the catastrophic wedding, Ron hasn't been able to escape the feeling he might have made a mistake. He had a lot of time during the summer, what with not hanging out with his former best friends and all; besides, Fred and George made it their mission to engage him in quite a few annoying conversations.

As if it's his fault that he can't bear the thought of two blokes… It makes him sick.

"Well, and some of the things you'll get up to between the sheets with some bird one day will make me sick!" Fred would say. "Does that mean it's morally wrong?"

"No, mate, because it's with a girl!"

"So? Love is love, isn't it?"

Stupid twins. Ron has never been able to win arguments against them and this matter wasn't any different. After a few weeks of this, which included seeing Harry at the wedding, Ron had to face the truth: He might not like queers at all, but there's nothing really he can do or say against them.

Well, only now it's too late to change things with Harry, Ron thinks glumly as he considers the Hogwarts Express. His fingers close around the Deluminator in his pocket, wondering if he should really board the train. After all, with the new regulations in place, a lot of his classmates won't be back.

"Oi, Ron!"

He turns around and sees Neville waving at him.

"You're the first in our dorm I've seen! I was afraid I'd end up alone."

"What, don't you want the dormitory all to yourself, mate?" he jokes, releasing the Deluminator. Of course, both Dean and Seamus wouldn't be able to pass the required blood status tests…

Decision made, Ron hurries over to his parents and hugs them good-bye before he joins Neville in an empty compartment.

Neville shifts nervously in his seat, worrying his lower lip between his teeth for a while before he dares to ask, "Any word from Harry?"

Ron shakes his head. "Last time I saw them was at the wedding."

"Oh. Well, I guess they haven't been captured, have they? It would've made the Prophet, I'm sure."

Ron shrugs helplessly. Suddenly, the compartment door bursts open moments before the train starts to move.

"Blimey, I almost missed it!" Seamus cries, flopping down on a seat next to Ron who, just like Neville, can't hide his surprise. "What?"

"You're here! How're you here!" Neville shouts and Seamus makes a shushing noise.

"Right, mate, announce it to the entire train, won't you? Me mum forged the papers, see? Said it'll be safer here; besides, what else would I've done?"

"Dean wasn't on the platform," Ron remarks and Seamus' face darkens.

"Brilliant, now we're two Gryffindors short! How're we going to stand up to the slimy git and his thugs now?"

"Stand up?" Ron asks and Seamus' eyebrows rise.

"You don't suppose everything's going to be all dandy now, are you? I heard we've got two new teachers, Death Eaters. And Snape's Headmaster! They'll crush us!" Then, Seamus sneers. "But we won't let them!"

"Dumbledore's Army!" Neville jumps up excitedly when he gets what Seamus is hinting at. "I'm sure a lot of the others will want to join once we see how things are going."

Before he can think how he feels about it, Ron realises he is smiling. He might not be with Harry and Hermione but apparently he doesn't need the Chosen One to stand up to You-Know-Who.

About half an hour into their journey, Seamus narrows his eyes. "You're being strangely civil, mate."

"So?" Ron aims for innocent, hoping they could avoid any weird conversations.

"No more yelling 'I can't sleep in the same room as two fags' in the tower?"

Ron shrugs uncomfortably. "Just don't flaunt it, all right?"

"Flaunt it?" Seamus' voice rises but Neville quickly cuts between them.

"Thanks, Ron. Harry would be glad to hear it. Besides – we need to stick together this year," Neville intones, fixing Seamus with a stern look, silencing any other protests the Irish boy might have wanted to voice.

Ron knows he hasn't heard the last of it and Seamus will surely be pissed off for another few weeks, though he is pretty sure he can handle it. Besides, with what they are up against, it might make Seamus forget he is trying to be angry with Ron.

XXX

"What do you mean, 'mandatory Muggle studies'?!"

"Exactly what I said, Mr Weasley," McGonagall tells him. "The Ministry has decided every student needs to learn what they consider important knowledge on Muggles."

The disdain in her voice is apparent and Ron growls though his outrage is nothing now compared to how he feels after the first lesson with Alecto Carrow.

"Is there a problem?" Alecto must have followed them out of the classroom and is now wearing a sweet smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

"Like hell there is a problem!" Ron draws himself up as a hush falls over the crowd gathered in the corridor. "You're saying that Muggleborns don't deserve to learn magic but I've known some who are more powerful than you'll ever be!"

Alecto raises an eyebrow. "That's because they stole their magic from powerful witches and wizards, Mr Weasley."

"That's bollocks! Merlin's beard, have you ever even met a Muggle?!"

"Now why would I want to meet a Muggle, Mr Weasley?" Her voice is threateningly low. "They're vile, filthy humans who refuse our community their rightful place, forcing us into hiding. Why would I want to talk to them?"

"To see if it's true what you're saying!" Ron shouts, not caring about the consequences anymore. "But you're too daft to question anything, aren't you, you just do what you're told, by the Ministry, by You-Know-Who-"

"That's enough!"

Ron falls silent, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He can see his fear reflected in the eyes of Neville, Seamus and the rest of his classmates.

"It's not your place to question what your betters have discovered," Carrow drawls, drawing her wand. "You need to be punished for your disobedience, Mr Weasley."

Ron crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Well, give me detention, then."

Alecto barks out a laugh. "Oh no, Mr Weasley. I doubt detention will be enough to make you learn." She points the wand at him. "_Crucio_!"

His body explodes with pain, daggers are digging into his skin, his hands are on fire, something is trying to tear him apart from the inside and all he can do is scream.

After an eternity, it stops and Ron finds himself on the floor curled up and trembling. He glances up into the shocked faces of his friends.

"Let this be a lesson to all of you," Alecto says and sweeps past Ron without sparing him another glance.

XXX

That first evening, while Ron, Neville and the girls still left in their class (everyone except Hermione) are working on their first homework of their year, the portrait opens and shuts with a loud bang and a bloke rushes past their group.

"Wasn't that Seamus?" Parvati asks.

"I don't care," Lavender snaps, scribbling furiously on her parchment.

Ron and Neville exchange glances and follow the boy up to their dormitory.

"Leave me alone!" Seamus shouts when they enter. He sounds like he is crying and Ron turns to go but Neville blocks the door and pushes him inside.

"What's wrong?" Neville sits down on a corner of the bed.

"Sod off, you wankers!"

"Weren't you meeting Theo tonight?" Neville asks and Ron freezes. Intriguingly, so does Seamus.

"Shut up!"

"What happened? Come on, Seamus, you can tell us."

"You'll just laugh at me!"

"Oi!"

"Not you, Neville, but Ginger will," Seamus grumbles and finally sits up on the mattress, wiping his cheeks dry.

Ron just looks at him questioningly.

"Theo and I are over!" Seamus shouts. "You happy now, mate? No more queers in your dorm, at least no active ones…"

A new wave of tears fills Seamus' eyes and suddenly, Ron feels very out of place in his own dormitory.

"What happened?" Neville dares after a while.

"Someone told Theo's father. And he… reacted badly. Punished him, I don't know, Theo wouldn't go into details, but… He said we have to end it."

"That's bollocks!" Neville jumps up, indignant. "That's none of his business! Just see him under his dad's nose!"

"He's a Death Eater, Neville! What do you think he'd do to his son if he discovered him lying? Grow up, mate! It's over!"

Seamus throws himself back down onto the bed. "Now get the bloody fuck out!"

Ron flees, Neville at his heels. They come to a stop in the middle of the staircase.

"Stupid Death Eaters!" Neville shouts, kicking the handrail. "But tell me you're at least a bit sorry for them!"

Ron takes a step back, considering. "I dunno."

"Come on, Ron! The blokes were in love! And now they can't be, that's not all right! Didn't you tell me your mum didn't like your brother's wife at first? What'd you say if she told him to stop seeing her?"

Ron shrugs but a voice in his head tells him exactly how he'd feel. It must have shown on his face, too.

"That's what I thought. Because there's no difference, is there?" Still angry, Neville stomps down the rest of the stairs, leaving Ron alone with his thoughts.

XXX

Three days later, Ginny smears "_Dumbledore's Army, Still Recruiting_" on the wall near the Great Hall just before everyone comes down for dinner.

Everyone knows who to contact and Ron, Neville and Ginny spent most of the weekend talking to other students who won't accept Snape's new regime, producing more coins for the group to communicate with.

They decide to meet once a week in the Room of Requirement to think of ways to undermine the Death Eaters and for the first time in weeks, Ron feels like he is actively doing something and not just sitting by while Harry and Hermione are out there, fighting a war.

Their ranks have thinned with many friends gone because of their blood status, yet the former core of the DA is still there, ready to do something, anything, really.

One night in October, Ginny is out of breath when she reaches the common room after an appointment with the Headmaster. Someone spotted her with red paint and tied her to the newest wave of graffiti decorating school walls, saying inspiring stuff like "_The Chosen One lives_" or hilarious stuff like _"No Power To You-No-Poo_".

"He has it!" she cries, looking more furious than Ron has ever seen her and that is saying something, given how he and the twins had teased her when they were younger.

"Who has what?" Neville cuts in, putting his quill down.

"Snape! That oily, snake-faced bastard has Gryffindor's sword in his office! What gives him the right – how can he – argh!" She kicks the table closest to her, crying out in anger.

"What?" Several voices demand and the next thing Ron knows it that everyone is protesting and he and Neville are scheming to get the Sword back into Gryffindor possession.

Their plan is simple but hopefully effective: Steal into Snape's office while he is at the Ministry – something that happens about two or three times a week, _probably getting cosy with You-No-Poo_, Ron thinks grimly – and retrieve the Sword.

As he, Neville, Ginny and Luna make their way towards the Headmaster's office, Ron wishes they had the Invisibility Cloak to avoid Filch and Mrs Norris. However, everything goes smoothly. They manage to guess the password ('pureblood', r_eally innovative, Snape_) in less than three minutes and successfully extract the Sword from its show cabinet.

Everything would have gone over perfectly… if Snape hadn't waited for them at the foot of the staircase to the headmaster's office.

"Well, well, why am I not surprised? The most prominent attribute of Gryffindors always was stupidity," he sneers. "Fifty points from each of you for this transgression. And you will receive detention," he promises and Ron can't suppress a shudder. Detention is feared nowadays. Either the Carrows spend the time by using the Cruciatus Curse on you or another student is forced to do it. One second-year has also been chained to a wall for a night as punishment.

"Hand me back the Sword."

"No!" Ginny shouts. "It doesn't belong to you!"

"It belongs to the school, the very school of which I am Headmaster. I have every right to claim this artefact."

"It's Gryffindor's sword! It's ours!" Ginny insists and Ron glimpses how Snape grips his wand tighter.

"Stop acting like a stupid girl or I will have to curse you."

"Don't you dare hurt her!" Ron shouts, raising his wand.

Snape's gaze is cold and emotionless as it moves back and forth between him and his sister.

"I won't if she hands me back the sword. And if you refuse, Mrs Weasley," Snape adds, pointing his wand at Ron instead, "I will be sure to hand over your brother to the Ministry and have him persecuted."

"On what grounds!" Neville cuts in but Snape merely laughs.

"A man in my position doesn't need solid proof, you fools. Now, Ms Weasley, would you risk your brother's life for a piece of metal, as steep in history as it may be?"

Reluctantly, Ginny raises the sword and allows Snape to take it from her.

"Now it is time for you mindless apes to return to your lair. You will report at eight tomorrow night for your detention in the Entrance Hall"

Ron wants to ask what their detention will consist of yet a look from Snape silences him immediately.

XXX

In the end, neither of them should have worried since their detention is to help Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest. Granted, weeding out magical mushrooms that are a threat to fairies isn't pleasant but it beats being on the receiving end of a Cruciatus from the Carrows every day.

As he is fighting a rather resilient mushroom, Ron spots a blue flower. He doesn't know what it is called; what he does know, however, is that it is used in magical explosives. He plucks all of the flowers he can find and puts them in his robe pockets.

Back in the common room, he spots Seamus writing an essay, probably for Muggle studies judging by the angry expression he is wearing.

"I found something," Ron announces which makes Seamus look up, face immediately turning into a scowl.

Before the boy can retort, Ron pulls the blue flowers out of his pockets and places them on the table next to Seamus who looks as if he had been hit by the Knight Bus.

"Where did you get these?"

"The Forrest. During detention."

"What, Snape held detention in the forest?"

"No, you dolt, he handed us over to Hagrid, we had to weed mushrooms and I saw the flowers and remembered they're used in explo- you know, just forget it," he sighs, frustrated by Seamus' still hostile look, and heads to take a shower to get rid of the forest smell.

He is about to undress when Seamus bursts into the room, looking apologetic.

"Look, mate, I'm sorry, I just thought it was a joke at first."

"How could that've been a joke?"

"Well," he smirks, "it's not every day a guy brings me flowers."

Ron's jaw drops and he feels anger flare in his chest.

"Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist," Seamus waves it off with a hand, "it was just a joke. Really, thanks for the flowers, they're rare and brilliant."

"Don't mention it," Ron replies after a pause.

Seamus nods and leaves him to his shower. And just like that, things are back to how they were before the bloke decided to snog a Slytherin.

Ron wishes relationship with girls were this straight forward from time to time.

XXX

Their failed attempt to steal the sword leads to a new wave of interest in the DA, which wouldn't be a bad thing if said wave didn't include Blaise Zabini.

"What do you want?" Ron snarls at him when the boy seeks him and Neville out in the library.

"I want to help."

"You want to spy, don't you?"

"You're letting Pansy help," Zabini shots back and Ron's head whirls around to look at Neville who at least has the decency to blush.

"She doesn't like torturing people. That's why she's helping us."

"So what's your excuse?" Ron snaps at the Slytherin, fixing him with a glare.

"You know quite well who changed me," Zabini insists and Ron wants to slap him for mentioning Hermione, even indirectly.

"What's to say you're serious? You could've just been using her to be able to spy on us. That'd be the Slytherin thing to do, wouldn't it?" Ron crosses his arms and glares some more.

Anger flares in Zabini's eyes. "If you can't grasp the concept of deep emotion, I pity you, Weasley."

"Guys, calm down," Neville cuts in. "Why don't we give him a chance, huh, Ron? Let him do things but not allow him to our DA meetings right away?"

Ron considers the Slytherin for a long time, a different sort of doubts he has been having in the forefront of his mind. Malfoy hasn't returned either and that did surprise him. After all, the little git would have loved to torture unruly students. Or would he? The problem is, Ron isn't so sure anymore.

He groans in frustration and throws his hands up. "All right, but the first sign of betrayal and you'll wish you'd have never talked to us, understand?"

Zabini nods curtly yet a smile is tugging on the corners of his mouth.

XXX

Severus watches the supposedly covert glances several students are sending each other over the dinner tables with worry. Something is bound to come; he merely hopes for the sake of the students that he will be the one to catch them during the act.

He noted Blaise's and Pansy's increasing interaction with Longbottom and Weasley two weeks ago and it hasn't abated since. _Good for them,_ Severus muses, _some Slytherin cunning will help with their Gryffindor stupidity_.

A bowl of potatoes hovers past him and towards Minerva who pointedly doesn't look at him as she sends the dish back after taking out some food instead of asking Severus to pass it to and fro.

He stifles a sigh. He feels tired, more tired than he has ever felt in his life.

He retires early that evening, inventing an excuse about a letter he has to send to Pius while instead he indulges the urge he has been feeling for days. He slides into the adjoining room of the Headmaster's office and orders an elf to brink him whisky.

He hardly ever drinks, his father having been enough of a deterring example, yet on rare occasions, he forgoes his own rule.

Not for the first time he wonders if all he is doing will prove in vein. If Potter and his entourage will bring upon the fall of the Dark Lord like Dumbledore – Dumbledore's portrait – seems so adamant about.

Then again: It really isn't of import. Severus knows he will not survive this war.

The realisation used to be discomfiting, now he draws strength from it. Gone are the times he made plans for his retirement, gone are the times he thought of names for spell books, potions books, books on Defence he was going to publish. The Half-Blood Prince is not going to make his mother proud that way, not anymore.

If living under the fist of Albus Dumbledore taught Severus anything it is that one's own life, in the face of the Greater Good, is meaningless.

Only the consequences of one's actions count.

XXX

Severus is overseeing Weasley's and Longbottom's detention for one reason: to find out whether they know anything about Potter's plans or whereabouts.

"_I prefer not to put all my secrets in one basket_," Dumbledore said a lifetime ago yet Severus doubts Potter will think in similar terms. Even Snape is aware of the Golden Trio going their separate ways, though, which may complicate the matter. Everything hinges on whether or not the Chosen One and his sidekick have found a way to return to being in cahoots during the summer.

Dumbledore's Army, Still Recruiting. He detests the myriad of way Gryffindors find courage and hope in the daftest of actions. It is, apparently, too much to hope for that Weasley and Longbottom will sit idly by and endure the year without drawing the wrath of the Death Eaters on themselves.

From time to time, however, Severus manages to assign them detention before the Carrows open their mouths. Which grant him an opportunity to probe into their minds…

Neither of the boys has ever received any form of training for it suffices to sweep their thoughts superficially to gather quite a large amount of information.

Longbottom is planning another stunt similar to the one that landed him in this very spot; only this time in a more shielded part of the castle. Severus makes a mental note to change the patrolling schedule for the following week to reduce the risk of one of the Carrows catching Longbottom in the act.

The boy also seems to have an unhealthy interest in finding a place for him and his girlfriend to spend some time alone and another mental note will ensure hormonal teenagers will no longer defile the Astronomy Tower.

Weasley's thoughts – Severus almost questions his luck; then again, Gryffindors never were the cleverest of students, especially in the presence of a skilled Legilimens – circle around Harry Potter. Apparently Mr Weasley regrets abandoning his best friend just a little now that the Chosen One is fulfilling his destiny, having left his former sidekick behind.

Well, Weasley never was more than a moth drawn to Potter's bright flame.

Speaking of flame… Severus has to restrain himself or else he would have gasped upon realising that Dumbledore left his own Deluminator to the Gryffindor.

Apparently the former Headmaster believed the flame wouldn't be able to survive without its moth. Very well, then. If Weasley wants to escape Hogwarts, Severus will facilitate it and be rid of the troublemaker for the rest of the school year.

XXX

Ron sighs heavily, the sound echoing around the empty common room. Everyone has gone to bed, only he is left down here, thinking.

It is December already and he has finally come to a decision. Standing up to the Carrows or annoying Snape isn't worth anything; all they are achieving is getting people hurt.

This week alone more DA members were in the hospital wing than out.

Yet Ron can't for the life of Merlin come up with a way to escape. All the secret passages out of school have been blocked so getting into Hogsmeade undetected won't be possible. There are no trips to the village anymore, so that is out of the question, too.

It is Thursday, December 18th. Tomorrow is their last Friday at Hogwarts and on Saturday, the train will take them back home. He needs to act fast but he can't just go without a plan.

"Hermione, where are you when I need you," he murmurs to himself, angrily pulling out the Deluminator and flicking the lid until the clicking noise fills the room.

He stops abruptly, blinks, and turns the small device over in his hands.

He clicks it. The lights in the common room immediately go out but then, another light appears in front of the portrait hole.

Ron stares for a few seconds, then he bold up the stairs and into the dorm, cramming everything he thinks he needs into a bag, then he scribbles a quick note and leaves it on top of his undeterred sheets before he goes after the light.

_I'm gone, I have to do something. Don't worry about me and please, mates, stay safe._

_PS: Sorry Neville, I stole some of your sweets for the way!_

XXX

Severus shudders when he considers how easy it was to put a tracing charm on the Weasley boy. Primitive, indeed, yet effective.

He is following the boy through the halls leading to the rooms used for storage, immediately realising there has to be one path out of the school they failed to seal off.

Severus confounds Alecto from around a corner where he remains, unseen, as the vile woman turns and continues into a different direction, leading her away from Mr Weasley.

Snape, however, follows him into the storage facilities and watches as a ball of light hovers in front of a portrait of a lion. The animal used to continuously roar at students, unsettling first-years which is why they had it removed and put in here. Now, though, the animal positively pours and unveils a passage behind the canvas. Weasley doesn't need a written invitation to Severus' surprise, he merely stares at the hole in the wall for fifteen seconds before he moves and climbs up.

Once the painting has sealed the passage again, Severus steps forward. The lion roars immediately and lashes out with its claws ever more viciously the closer he tries to come.

Snape admits defeat with a sigh. At least he still has a trace on the boy, which will make it easier to find him once he is back with Potter and Granger should other means of locating them fail.

Glaring at the lion, Severus backs away gracefully until the feline stops its antics and lies down again.

XXX

The secret passage is windy and narrow and Ron hits his elbows more than once, sucking in a sudden breath to keep himself from crying out in pain.

He wonders why he has never seen the storage rooms before, or whether anyone except for Filch ever has. If – no, when – he finds Harry and Hermione again, he will ask to check the Map.

The end of the tunnel leads him to some sort of trap door, which opens easily enough. Climbing out, Ron blinks, trying to make sense of his surroundings in the darkness.

"_Lumos minima,_" he whispers eventually. He should have looked up a spell on night-time vision, really.

He can't believe his luck - the room he landed himself in is a pantry. Carefully listening for any noise that might indicate someone is aware of an intruder, Ron helps himself to some food. Fortunately, everything already has preservation charms on it since he himself has never mastered that one. Well, his mum is not a very good teacher, he muses.

He digs in his pockets until he finds a few coins. It doesn't cover the food by half but it is all he can manage right now. Promising he will pay the owner back, he leaves the Sickles and looks for an exit.

XXX

Ron leaves the Hog's Head through the back door without anyone noticing, then simply apparates to a forest he visited with his family a few years ago. It is remote enough to keep him from prying eyes and will make a good base for his search.

Which he has no idea where to begin.

XXX

The castle is empty, emptier than usual. Almost all students have decided to return home for the holidays, leaving behind a school void of life safe for the teachers.

Weasley still hasn't found Potter and Granger yet Dumbledore's portrait remains optimistic. "When the time is right," he says calmly while Snape is rolling his eyes.

Christmas Day is a sad affair. In previous years, Severus was welcome to spend the holiday at Malfoy Manor if the family themselves weren't otherwise occupied – for example with celebrating in Egypt under palm trees.

This year though, he remains at Hogwarts with Slughorn and the Carrows. Trelawney has chosen to stay in her tower and the creature in his rooms.

The Dark Lord has a tendency to ignore Christmas for which Severus is grateful. It wouldn't do if Weasley found his friends and needed the sword and Severus wasn't able to leave the Dark Lord's side.

It happens the next day.

"Headmaster! They are camping in the Forest of Dean!" Phineas Nigellus starts shouting even before he is fully inside the portrait. "The Mudblood –"

"Do not use that word!"

"- the Granger girl, then, mentioned the place as she opened her bag and I heard her!"

"Good, very good!" the portrait of Dumbledore agrees. "Now, Severus, the sword! Do not forget that it must be taken under conditions of need and valour – and he must not know that you give it! If Voldemort should read Harry's mind and see you acting for him –"

"I know," Severus almost snaps, pulling aside his predecessor's portrait revealing a hidden cavity holding the Sword of Gryffindor.

"And you still aren't going to tell me why it's so important to give Potter the Sword?"

"No, I don't think so," Dumbledore answers in an infuriatingly calm voice. "He will know what to do with it. And Severus, be very careful, they may not take kindly to your appearance after the George Weasley mishap –"

"Don't worry, Dumbledore," Severus shoots back, actively supressing an eye-roll, "I have a plan."

He buttons up his travelling coat and leaves the room. It takes him thirty minutes to reach Hogsmeade from where he apparates to the Forest of Dean. Usually Severus detests the cold – too many memories of icy rooms; that and low temperatures are the enemy of every potion maker – yet tonight, it proves useful he decides as he banishes the sword to the bottom of a frozen lake.

Weasley has come as well, a swift checking of the trace tells Severus. Adjusting his plan, Severus casts his Patronus, allowing himself one moment of nostalgic melancholy as he watches the doe tread on the forest's ground before he sends the deer off to draw Weasley in and eventually to lead Potter to the sword.

What transpires next makes Severus doubt whether Potter is as suited to fight the Dark Lord as Dumbledore keeps insisting on. Surely if one has acquired a strange magical object one will consider removing it before diving into a frozen lake to retrieve another powerful magical object.

Daft Gryffindors. It shouldn't come as such a surprise.

Once the Weasley boy has saved Potter's hide – probably not for the first time – Severus' initial plan meant for him to leave. Yet curiosity wins out. Dumbledore might not want to tell him everything, though nothing can be said against finding out for himself.

XXX

"Are – you – _mental_?" Ron doubts he has ever been so angry in his life. "Why the bloody hell didn't you take this thing off before you dived?!" The strange locket is dangling from his hand. He might not know what it is, exactly, but judging by the way it tried to strangle Harry, it can't be anything good.

Harry blinks up at him through wet lashes. "It was y-you?" His teeth are clattering and they really need to warm him up, Ron thinks.

"Well, yeah?"

"Y-you cast the doe?"

"What? No, of course not! I thought that was you doing it!"

"My Patronus is a stag."

"Oh yeah. I thought it looked different. No antlers."

Harry nods and bows down to put on a warm sweater and pick up a wand that doesn't look anything like his.

"How come you're here?" Harry asks at last and Ron can finally dive into the explanation he has been rehearsing for the past few days. He knows there is a chance Harry will turn him away again and he is not going to risk that.

"I went back to Hogwarts, which is hell, by the way, the Carrows are mental, really. A few of us started Dumbledore's Army again but… You know, I kept thinking that you're out there somewhere, fighting the real fight, because Dumbledore gave you a mission, right? I remember from the Order meeting in August…" He takes a deep breath. "Anyway, I was a daft git. Fred and George were pretty keen on drilling that point into my head. I might not like it, the thing with you and, y'know, blokes… But you're still Harry, I guess. And I want to help. If," he clears his throat, "you know. You still want me."

Ron watches Harry's reaction and is relieved when the anger dissipates little. It is still there, shimmering underneath the surface, yet apparently, five years of going through everything together can't be erased by one year of him acting like a total moron.

Slowly, Harry nods. "I guess we could use your help. But Ron… It won't be back to normal, all right?"

"I know."

Harry considers him for a moment, probably trying to figure out if he is being completely honest. Well, Ron knows he bollocksed up; he is just glad Harry will give him a second change.

Third one, actually. Or fourth?

Whatever Harry sees in Ron's face seems to be enough to convince him. "Good. You'll need to apologise to Hermione, too."

"Sure." For good measure, he adds, "Blaise isn't that bad, it turns out." At Harry's questioning glance, he explains, "He joined the DA at Hogwarts. I guess dating a Muggleborn does that to a Slytherin."

That actually earns him a smile and Ron knows that, even though not everything might run smoothly from the beginning, he and Harry will be all right in the end.

Well, and destroying a Horcrux together really welds people together, as it turns out.

Ron is breathing heavily, sword in hand, staring at the broken locket. He just destroyed a piece of You-Know-Who's soul, he realises. So this is what Harry and Hermione have been up to – soul hunting.

Ron probably needs to sleep over the information that You-Know-Who split his soul in so many pieces but, all things considered it might not be the weirdest thing that has happened to Ron since he met Harry Potter.

Well, the hardest is probably still to come: facing Hermione after having acted like a complete wanker throughout sixth year.

Ron shudders yet gathers his courage and follows Harry back to the camp.

XXX

In the shadows, hidden from the boys, Severus has to lean against a tree as realisation floods his mind.

Horcruxes.

It is obvious, really. A gruesome way to ensure one's survival, indeed; yet Severus has always believed Horcruxes to be brilliant works of magic.

With one last glance at Potter and Weasley to ensure they haven't tripped over a branch and broken their necks, Severus disapparates.

He has to think.

XXX

**End Notes**: I have to apologise to VernieKlein for bringing Ron back since she wanted an anti-Ron fic. Yet since I fulfilled the prompt in part I, I decided it's time to have Ron grovel, begging to come back (because I really love him dearly as a sidekick). Of course things won't be all love, piece and harmony between the three of them but everything has to start somewhere ;)

I hope I haven't disappointed anyone by bringing Ron back! Don't worry, won't be long until Draco and Harry meet again *laughs-forebodingly*

**Regarding the next update**: I fear I won't be able to post next week... but I've been writing the sequel to Gorgeous as well, so there will be an update in that verse next Saturday. Please don't hate me!


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